


Moonlight Drawn Beneath the Clouds

by Lindenbay



Series: Moonlight Drawn Beneath the Clouds [2]
Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Beauty and the Beast Elements, Canonical Character Death, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fantasy, Forbidden Love, Historical Fantasy, Inuyasha Prequel, Late Heian Period, Mildly Dubious Consent, Possible Stockholm Syndrome, Pre-Canon, Romance, Sensuality, Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:09:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 106,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25254376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lindenbay/pseuds/Lindenbay
Summary: On her way to become an imperial consort and present a sword of conquest to the emperor, Izayoi is abducted by the mysterious guardian of the west. Confining her to his palace, in the hope that imprisonment will convince her to yield, the Inu no Taisho's plan unexpectedly backfires and leads him to his total ruin. [Inu no Taisho x Izayoi]*~ Dojinshi Adaptation Pending: Full Release in Spring 2021 ~*
Relationships: Higurashi Kagome/InuYasha, Inu no Taishou/Izayoi
Series: Moonlight Drawn Beneath the Clouds [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2032705
Comments: 48
Kudos: 117





	1. The Wind in the Pines

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: This story contains explicit sexual content, strong language, depictions of graphic violence, and a questionable scene in which consent is unclear. There are also some minor spoilers pertaining to Yashahime for canon compliance. Readers, please use your discretion and be advised.

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**Part I : The Wind in the Pines**

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_Artist Credit: Unknown \ See Watermark_

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Her father had not told her the new emperor’s envoy was at the manor.

It wasn’t until the imperial representative had gone that her father walked over to the open verandah of her wing and let her know as she sat behind her screens. He tried to explain in his own, careful way about the reason for the visit and although it was obviously significant, Izayoi still remembered being taken aback when he described to her of the envoy’s reaction after the man had glimpsed her in the garden.

The envoy took just one, long look at her as she walked amidst the sunlit, autumnal splendor and said in all sincerity, “It would seem, my lord Mototsune, that your daughter is the Princess Kaguya reborn.”

It was not the most imaginative of responses that her father had heard compared to the fine poems that so many suitors had sent over the years, all hoping that their sublime verses could charm Mototsune into giving access to his only child.

After the viewing, the envoy declined the offer of an overnight stay as he insisted on returning to the capital immediately so he could report to the emperor as soon as possible.

“Now that we have verified for His Majesty, he'll undoubtedly send for her to the palace.” The envoy had advised Mototsune as he departed. “I trust that by then, you will have the imperial sword and your daughter ready. He'll be most anxious to have both at court as soon as possible, preferably before his coronation.”

He spoke with such surety that Mototsune had no opportunity to protest or even ask for more time to consider.

“You understand that we have very little say in the matter.” He gently said to Izayoi even as he laid her low. “This is a great honor for you and an unquestionably splendid match, given our family’s low rank at court.”

“The emperor already has two concubines including an empress. He doesn't need me.”

Had anyone else heard her, eyebrows would have been raised and a great many noses set out of joint. To his credit, Mototsune remained unperturbed by his daughter's rather controversial comment. There were times when he almost regretted having given her a classical education which had only sharpened her intellect by tenfold. Her mind now bent towards practicality and she had learned not to accept things at face value. 

“He's to be crowned at the end of the month,” he reminded her, “but as you know, he’s been childless for some time and the court is deeply anxious about it. The empress and His Majesty’s other concubines haven’t borne any heirs yet. It's why many want him to take on another consort.”

“What makes you think I would do any better?” She gazed out at the garden by her wing. The maple was just beginning to turn and the lotuses in the pond had begun to recede back into the water’s depths. “It's a mistake. One of our more distinguished cousins would be more appropriate. We can’t accept this proposal.”

Mototsune sighed disapprovingly because he had misunderstood what she was getting at. “This isn’t the time to fish for compliments. You know exactly why your cousins were bypassed over you. Did you really think that you would remain hidden away forever and that someone would not hear of you eventually?”

“I wish you’d stop exaggerating the reports of my appearance.” She was exasperated, thinking that his careless boasting over sake cups had been partly to blame.

“My dear, there are more stories about your lack of adherence to the aesthetics than your own looks. You can blame the servants for that gossip. I daresay that nearly half of your swains only came to the house out of curiosity to see if the rumors were true.”

“Why do people even care if I don’t blacken my teeth or powder my face?”

Since the day she declared she wouldn’t follow the court customs, she had been lectured about what a huge mistake she was making and that she was permanently ruining herself from the marriage market. Her father was mystified by her unorthodox choice but shrugged it off, believing that she would take it up when she was ready. Then surprise, surprise. Contrary to all expectations, her loveliness and the fame accompanying it grew to an astonishing degree.

Her girlhood forelocks lengthened into rivers of jet that flowed behind her back and pooled at her feet. Her large, dark eyes were framed by long lashes and beautifully offset against her pristine complexion. She had thought that men would shun her on the grounds that she did not conform to standards. Instead, and no one ever could quite figure out how or why, they only drew closer and seemingly forgave what they considered to be her “charming quirks.” They insisted that they didn’t mind that she was thinner than most girls. Or that her teeth were white, claiming they were akin to pearls. Even if her lips lacked rouge, they waved that offense off, poetically comparing their natural color to peonies in full bloom.

Then again, she had to cynically concede, men were bound to say anything to get a woman to lift her skirts.

“Your beauty is a gift,” Mototsune reproached. “I have long tolerated your eccentricities and have been liberal about your marriage prospects even though you are older than most brides. But I always knew that at some point, someone would look beyond these impediments and accept you anyway. I just never expected it to be the emperor himself.” He smiled. “You truly are far too beautiful to be passed up on.”

“I really wasn’t trying to get compliments out of you, Father,” Izayoi lightly teased. As awful as the situation was, somehow it also provoked laughter. When the court discovered that such a mInor noble like herself was being granted the rank of consort to the emperor, people would be irate. She could not help but feel a sense of doom when she thought of the mistreatment and petty insults that awaited her arrival. 

“We have only a few weeks before you enter the palace with the imperial sword.” Mototsune said. “Perhaps we should call a cleric to remind you of the unsealing ceremonies for So’unga. It’s been some time since we went over it together.”

“There are a lot of things we still haven’t gone over,” she deliberately emphasized.

Her father’s face softened. “It’s no longer necessary for you to learn about estate administration and finance anymore. Not with such a powerful husband. You will be taken care of, there’s nothing for you to worry about. He will see to it that you have ministers helping you with all that.”

“Provided that I give him a son. Where others have already tried and failed. I should know some….basic skills, Father. I need to know what to do when there isn’t anyone to rely on. Don’t you want me to be able to fend for myself?”

“That is your husband’s duty,” Mototsune insisted, much to her dismay. “No one wants a wife who talks of taxes or asks how to increase the rice output from a manor. Those kind of questions won’t be considered charming or refreshing at court.” He frowned at her and from that point on, she knew she had lost the battle.

It was so soon, too short of a period to adjust to the new life awaiting her. The days that followed seemed like a dream as the manse suddenly burst into activity to prepare for her departure. Bolts of silks and brocades were carried to and fro into her rooms, half of which became a sewing factory as her maids rushed to stitch up dozens of robes for her to wear. Jars of precious fragrances were dug up from the garden and all of her late mother’s jewels were carefully inventoried so that she could take everything with her to the palace . Motostune had even provided new mats, folding panels, and curtains, all of exquisite designs, along with lacquered boxes filled with poetry scrolls. It was all very fine and yet she worried over how he could afford such an expense. When she broached the subject with him, he laughed at her concern.

“Consider it an investment. I expect the return in the form of a healthy grandchild.”

Then just like that, on the last day of the month, she bade farewell to her father, her servants, and the manor that she had grown up in. Climbing into a continental-style carriage with silken layers trailing in her wake, she took a final look at her home and silently made a wish that she would return to it one day. All of her belongings had been packed and set on separate carts but she insisted on keeping the casket with So’unga close to her. It sat across from her in the dark confines of her carriage as she and her escorts rode to the capital.

They journeyed along the coastline, travelling eastward in steady progress. For miles, all Izayoi was able to see were rocky shores tinged in white from the waves that rolled back into a grey sea. Even though the weather was far too cold to permit it, she was tempted to halt the processions and go for a walk on the beach. Even better, perhaps she could feign illness and have everyone turn around to go back. How much time would that buy her? Surely the emperor would not accept a sickly bride.

Lifting her reed blinds, she glimpsed Takemaru, the young captain of her guards, riding horseback alongside the carriage and guiding the rest of her retinue on the coastal road. 

When Mototsune realized just how much his daughter was dreading the prospect of going to the palace, he appointed Takemaru as her chief escort, thinking it would be a great comfort to her. It was true that she strongly preferred Takemaru to the other guards. She had known him since they were children, when he had been a shy but sweet-natured boy who grew up into a reticent man. He had become a little stiff, perhaps, and her maids felt he was pompous about rank. But he was unfailingly circumspect, always alert and ready to serve. She had heard the other men resented him for his promotions, feeling they were earned by favor rather than merit. They said he was all the more determined to rise high in the world in the hope that one day, he'd actually be good enough for his master's daughter, and the very audacity of the idea rankled everyone. How she wished she could correct them. Takemaru was no threat and besides, he was such a stickler for propriety that she doubted his affections went any further than respect. 

“My lady?” Takemaru was startled to discover she had pushed the blinds aside and her face was bare for all the world to see.

“Don’t look so shocked,” Izayoi reassured him, “I just wanted to look outside.”

“Everyone is watching. You should lower your blinds.” He glanced at the porters and sure enough, instead of concentrating on the path, they were all craning their necks to get a good glimpse of her.

“But the carriage is so stuffy.” She smiled, hoping to diffuse his anxiety but he quickly averted his gaze and rode on ahead.

Izayoi withdrew from the window and settled back into her seat, shifting her sights from the coast to the long mahogany box that contained her family’s greatest relic. She had been told that for centuries, her branch of the family had been tasked with the guardianship of So’unga, the imperial sword. As to the reason why or even when, she could not find a singular reason or explanation. From parent to child, the sealing and unsealing rituals had been passed down from memory. The rules were simple and never altered: it could only be presented at a coronation, the ceremonies were tied to the lunar cycle, and it was never to be unsealed under any circumstances.

How strange that for all of its importance, she had never even seen what the sword looked like. The most tangible evidence that it even existed was the very weight of the box and that it’s foreboding aura was palpable. It felt as though she was sitting in the presence of a dangerous sentinel that was simply waiting to strike and attack.

 _The emperor must have no idea_ , she mused as her gaze settled on the casket, _he must think it’s some aged relic that he can wield around._

She would have to correct him of such a misunderstanding when she finally met her future husband face-to-face. She had no idea what he looked like and even when she had pressed her father for details, he too was at a loss. It had been twenty years since Mototsune had been at court and the emperor had been only a child then. She was more unnerved by the fact that her father could not even give her the reassurance that the new ruler was kind, good, or at the very least, honest.

Then there was the harem to contend with. An empress and two other consorts, all of whom would view her as an upstart rival before she even set foot in the palace. If only they knew her true feelings about the marriage….would they even be receptive to friendship?

But whatever ideas she had suddenly vanished when she felt the carriage come to an abrupt halt, causing the casket to fall to the floor. Immediately Izayoi picked it up and gripped it with her hands as she waited for Takemaru to stop by to explain. Had they encountered an obstacle on the road? Did something happen to one of the carts?

She was about to open the blinds to ask for him when she heard men screaming and horses neighing in sheer panic.

“Hold firm!” Takemaru shouted above the din. “Protect the carriage at all costs!”

_My god._

She swiveled around in her seat, clutching at the sword. She had never encountered a battle before but knew instantly that she was in terrible danger. Outside, the clamor morphed into pandemonium in a matter of minutes and she could feel the carriage sway in motions. The blinds violently shook, causing the sunlight to flicker away.

“Get away from there! _I—said—get—away!_ ” Her blood ran cold at the sound of Takemaru’s voice and his armor rustling in movement as though he was running towards her.

Then followed a terrible crashing noise and her carriage tilted to the side, nearly toppling over as something heavy was thrown against it.

“Takemaru!”

Unable to stand it any longer, Izayoi threw open the doors and rushed out with So’unga, nearly tripping over her robes as she did so. A horrendous scene of carnage lay before her. Her entire escort had been ripped into shreds and left lying on the ground, dead or dying. The carts were destroyed, their glistening goods scattered about in haphazard piles. Not even the horses had been spared. Adding to her terror, she found her captain at the side of her carriage, struggling to get up.

“My….my lady….” he gasped when he realized she had gotten out. His eyes suddenly went wide. “Run! Run, my lady! RUN!”

She turned.

She did not know which was more frightening: the red, soaked hands dripping with blood or the terrible beauty of the face that directly looked at her.

It was a beast, that she knew, for what else could be responsible for such violence? But this creature had a humanoid form, the likes of which she had never seen. He was a head and a half taller than most men and had the look of a warrior although she failed to recognize any of the strange armor he wore. What was left of the sunlight burned white against his silvery hair and gold along his ambered eyes. The demon’s guise had an almost regal bearing, as though he held himself above everything including the massacre he had caused along with any moral qualms.

And yet, as much as she trembled and dreaded what would come to pass, somehow, she felt her body move protectively in front of Takemaru to shield him.

She thought she saw a flash of teeth in response and fleetingly wondered if it was a smile or a sneer when in the blink of an eye, the demon stood right in front of her, having closed the distance between them in a matter of moments.

“Why do you carry the sword?” She heard the demon speak and was dumbfounded. Demons knew human language?

“You filthy scum.” Takemaru angrily called out from behind her. The viciousness of his tone shocked her. “This is the Lady Izayoi, daughter of Fujiwara Mototsune and consort to the emperor. She is the rightful guardian of the imperial regalia and far above the likes of an animal like you.” He spat. “Address her again, I’ll cut your head off.”

“Is So’unga what you want?” Izayoi rushed to speak before Takemaru could say anything more. She held out the casket. “Is this why you attacked us?”

The demon’s eyes narrowed at her offering. “Why has it been sealed?” He bared his teeth in anger.

“It's been like this for centuries, at least that was what I was told.” Izayoi tried to explain, not understanding why the relic was provoking such a hostile reaction. She looked at the fallen men at her feet. Takemaru was seriously injured, perhaps even dying. If she had never made this journey, they would have been home, safe and unharmed. She felt overwhelmed by guilt and shame.

“But I can break the seals for you.” She could hardly believe what was coming out of her mouth but continued to risk it. “If you swear that you won't harm any of my guards and servants who are still alive. Let them go free and in return for their safety, I'll give you what you want.”

From the silence that followed, she realized that Takemaru must have been thunderstruck by her proposal and the demon was seriously considering it.

“Or better yet, I could simply slit your throat and take the sword from you.” The demon quietly challenged.

“I’d like to see you try to free it from the binding spell.” Her own threat sounded so small and feeble in comparison. She must have committed a terrible crime in her past life to have the misfortune of encountering this creature. Fate had a strange way of balancing the scales.

“Then unseal it.”

“I can’t.” It wasn’t entirely true but she had to ensure that the demon would keep his word and at the very least, buy some time. “The seals are tied to the lunar cycle. If I’m to free So’unga completely, it has to be done on a full moon.”

“That’s a month away.”

“So take me as your hostage.” Izayoi dared to negotiate even further, prompting Takemaru to swear in outrage. “Keep me with you until that time, as assurance. But you _must_ spare my attendants in exchange.”

“My lady, no,” Takemaru’s face was ashen. “Don’t do this.”

“Be silent.” She imperiously cocked her wrist at him, never taking her eyes away from the demon.

“You haven’t the faintest idea of what sort of danger you are putting yourself into, do you?” She heard him say. The edge of his lips curved ever so slightly. Did he find this entertaining? The very thought only hardened her resolve. 

“I give you my word.”

“You’re wasting your time,” Takemaru was struggling to get up on his feet. She was alarmed by how hard he was breathing as though every exhale was costing him all the strength he had left. “Demons like him don't understand honor. He means you harm and to take the sword from you.”

Izayoi held out a protective arm in front of him. “Stay where you are.”

“You would do well to listen to her.” A dangerous glint was in the demon's eyes.

“Are we at an agreement?” Izayoi demanded, forcing him to return his attention back to her. 

The time that passed seemed to stretch immeasurably. Between now and forever, she thought that death would be inevitable. What would await her in the next life? She had always thought the last thing she would see on her deathbed would be home and instead, she would be looking upon the face of her would-be killer. She closed her eyes as she waited with bated breath and her thoughts turned towards her father. She was the only one of his children to have survived into adulthood and now, he would be left alone in the world.

_I love you, Father._

With a force that knocked her off her feet, she felt a pair of impossibly strong arms sweep her into a hold and keep her fast.

Izayoi looked up and felt her cheek brush against an armored plate. Her captor’s head was craned towards the sky which seemed to become bluer and wider, as if they were heading into it. They were flying. There was nothing beneath her feet but gravity and the shoreline that grew more distant with each passing second. All that surrounded her were clouds and the rays of a setting sun cresting upon them.

“Takemaru!” She twisted away and tried to wrench herself free.

“Lady Izayoi!” Takemaru reached for her in vain.

Her head rolled back as her senses tumbled into unconsciousness once the atmosphere grew thin. The last thing to reach her before she slipped away was the sound of Takemaru’s screams renting the air.

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When she finally came to, the world that she found herself in could not have been any more different than the one she had left behind.

On the day she woke up, she was startled to discover herself in a palatial inner chamber and at first, in her confusion, thought she had been magically trafficked to the capital. Perhaps everything had been some horrible dream. But then So’unga was gone, her bed clothes looked nothing like the ones she owned, and when she tried to get out of bed, she was stunned by how weak her body felt. She collapsed to her knees, painfully hitting them on the wooden floor and swayed to the side.

Dazed, she thought she felt something cool against her skin and looked down to see a jade rosary bracelet dangling from her wrist.

“I wouldn’t take that off if I were you, my dear.” A voice from nowhere said.

“What…?” She scanned the room but it was empty.

“Down here!”

As if she didn’t have enough surprises for one day, a flea-sized demon in the guise of an eldery nobleman cheerfully bowed in greeting to her from the floor. He introduced himself as Myōga, a chief counselor and the head of the household, and was happy to be of service for anything she required.

“You must be exhausted, Lady Izayoi,” he knowingly said, “but you mustn't worry, this is to be expected. Your human body is simply reacting to the demonic energy within the palace’s atmosphere. If it weren’t for those prayer beads,” he gestured to her bracelet, “you would’ve been overcome. I daresay you’ll learn to adjust within a few more days but you must make sure to never take this off or you will succumb to the miasma.”

“The palace?” Izayoi was perplexed. “Whose palace is this?”

“You are a guest of the illustrious Inu no Taisho, our lord and master here at the Western Palace.” Myōga was only too happy to answer her. “He was the one that brought you and the staff have cared for you ever since your arrival. I have been instructed to provide you with whatever you wish for your comfort. You need only to ask and send for me at any time. You are safe here, as long as you remain on the grounds.”

“Until when?” She asked. She was struck by how politely the flea demon was addressing her, even more so at her captor’s unusual level of generosity. So, it seemed that the demon had accepted her offer after all. Her execution had been delayed, but by how long?

To her dismay, Myōga was brought up short by her question. “Why….as long as his lordship sees fit!”

Over the course of the next few weeks, it became clear that Myōga truly meant what he said even if he seemed unaware of the real reason for her stay. He never mentioned So’unga and although his favorite topic of conversation was how wonderful the Inu no Taisho was, she was given no indication that she was expected to see him which confused her even more. The full moon was drawing close and when it came, who knew what would happen.

When she was well enough, she dared to venture beyond her compound and explore the grounds. What she discovered was a palace of immense size and structure, its walls made of white marble and its roofs topped by lacquered tiles of the deepest mahogany hue. Each corridor was laid out in grey stone and framed with intricate lattice frames, featuring motifs of bamboo, pine, and plum. All the verandahs overlooked dreamy scenes of mountainscapes to the east, seas to the west, and picturesque gardens that looked as if they had been brought to life from a painting. There was no corner she passed that wasn’t occupied by some beautiful willow or cypress presiding over an artful arrangement of stones. Or a window from which she could gaze upon startlingly vibrant camellias, gorgeous clumps of wisteria, and delicate springs of cherry blossoms.

For a prison, it was a charming, if not unusual, location. It certainly was a vast improvement to her expectations of a dark cell. Curiously, there were no blinds or curtains of any kind hanging from the galleries so for the first time since she was a child, she had complete freedom to walk in the open without having to retreat behind a screen.

Magic surrounded her and was deeply embedded from a blade to grass to the smallest grain of wood. The food was superb, sake was plentiful, and if she wanted to, all she had to do was step into any garden to pick whatever fruit she desired regardless of the season. Even the water in her baths and soaps was enchanted; everytime she stepped out, she emerged from it feeling and looking dazzlingly clean.

She had been given a full, new wardrobe of robes made from pastel silks and gauzy materials but upon her first try of the clothes, it took her an hour to relearn how to dress herself as the garments were unfamiliar and nothing like what she wore at home. The hems of her dresses just reached the floor without heavy trails of fabric. The sleeves were longer, flowing down her arms in elegant drapes and framing a fitted bodice to form a more graceful silhouette. When she looked in the mirror, she almost didn’t recognize herself. It was as if she was gazing upon the reflection of another woman from another world.

Whatever barbaric stereotypes she had been told of demons were being unfounded constantly on a daily basis. The palace was teeming with a court of its own and she was astonished at the sheer numbers of magical creatures that trafficked in and out of its doors. Water gods, fruit sprites, elemental incarnations, flora, and fauna with grotesque, colorful, innocent, even beautiful guises. The sounds of their lively chatters, angry shouts, and child-like laughs were no different than what could have been heard in any marketplace in the human world. What brought them together to the palace was a singular, almost universal adoration of the Inu no Taisho and Izayoi didn’t believe that not even the emperor could command such acclaim.

When she asked Myōga about it, he responded, “Many of those demons were driven out of their homelands by evil spirits which were brought on by human activity. My lord rescued them and brought them under his protection.”

 _He sounds almost….kind_ , Izayoi didn’t know what to make of this.

She had not seen the Inu no Taisho since the day of her capture. Myōga told her that he often was travelling further into the west these days as there was a great deal of unrest in the region. In the interim, she was treated like a guest and had been exceedingly provided for in every way but one. She could not leave let alone communicate with the outside world so she was left wondering about the fates of her travelling companions. Had Takemaru survived? Did anyone make it back to her father? And if so, what on earth did Mototsune say to the emperor about her disappearance?

A month elapsed before she encountered Inu no Taisho again and when she did, it was not on equal terms. The day that he asked for her, she was so convinced that she would likely be killed, she morbidly selected a silver-white brocade robe to wear in anticipation. White being the color of death and those condemned to die.

She sat waiting for him on the verandah of her compound, affixing her gaze at the garden pond that pooled below the eastern wing. The moon was close to the horizon, bright and full like a gold coin, attended by a splash of stars across the white haze of the milky way. If this was to be the last vision she would get to see, she was glad. There was nothing more peaceful than the night sky in a setting such as this.

_Thump._

Turning around, she saw So’unga, free from it’s casket, lying at her feet.

Looking up, Inu no Taisho towered over her from his full height. She rose to her feet to face him, even though she felt unsteady. He certainly knew how to make a surprising entrance, graceless as it was, she would give him that.

He crossed his arms and looked at her expectantly. When she didn’t answer him right away, his expression deepened into annoyance.

“You do know how to unseal the sword, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she affirmed, although he didn’t look convinced.

“You are not a priestess,” he observed.

 _No. I'm just a nobleman's daughter._ _Girls like me aren't taught magic, we're trained to look pretty, sing, and dance. If I played you something, would you spare me?_

She wondered what he might have said to that. Instead, what came out was steadfast refusal; her father and the others before her in her position would have done no differently, she was convinced. “I don’t know what your intentions are with So’unga but if you plan to use it to cause harm, I cannot allow you to have it.”

He made a derisive sound that was something between a bark and….a laugh? She wasn’t sure if she had heard amusement or scorn, possibly both.

“You’re a terrible negotiator, Izayoi.” He coldly smiled, startling her when he used her name. “I spared your men just as you asked. I brought you to a palace, not a prison, so we could await the full moon. You gave me your word.”

“Tell me why this relic is so important to you.” She held firm despite her lack of leverage. “Not even the emperor has ever used it in battle. It’s for ceremony only.”

“Your emperor wouldn’t even know how to wield So’unga,” the Inu no Taisho’s eyes narrowed, “and it’s because of his failure to govern that so many provinces have fallen into ruin and evil has gone unchecked. That ‘relic’ as you call it is one of the few weapons that can counterbalance the havoc his neglect has caused.” He turned from her. “But what could you possibly understand? You are, after all, his concubine. You’re ignorant of all this and infatuated with his supposed magnificence without realizing it’s a lie.”

“I had no say in the match,” Izayoi responded with surprising vehemence. Her fingertips touched the rosary beads encircling her wrist, reminding herself of the awful fate that she was tempting.

“Isn’t being an emperor’s bride the highest honor that a human woman like yourself can attain in your world?” His derision could not have been made more plain.

Izayoi gripped at the bracelet. She faced him directly, even though every fibre of her being was screaming at her to run. “The greatest honor for me would be to keep my integrity against a demon like yourself. So’unga was the last thing that my father entrusted to me to pass onto its’ rightful owner and I would rather die than to give it to you.”

With inhuman speed, he closed the distance between them to grasp her wrist and pulled her towards him in lethal proximity.

“I can keep you imprisoned here for as long as it takes until you make good on your promise.”

“The sword doesn’t belong to you!”

“And neither does it belong in the hands of a mortal!” He would not release her. “ _Unseal it._ ”

“Let go of me!”

As she struggled against him, she managed to slip off the rosary but not before breaking the string so that all the beads fell around her like jade tears, clattering onto the verandah as the magic held within them dissipated into nothing.

The sky became her new horizon as Izayoi collapsed and felt herself being caught in the Inu no Taisho’s arms.

“You fool.” He softly cursed her as the miasma seeped into her body and dragged her down into a blank darkness.

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“ _I knew it._ ”

Tōtōsai shook his head in disgust. “I _told_ you what would happen if you tried to force the girl and what do you do? Exactly the opposite of what I advised.” Scowling, he turned back to his furnace and blew a steady stream of flames at it in a great huff.

“.....”

“Well don’t just sit there and sulk.” Tōtōsai scolded without turning around to look at the demon brooding behind him. “How are you going to fix this?”

“I didn’t think—” The Inu no Taisho began.

“Clearly, not.”

The demon’s mouth hardened into a grim line.

“Where’s the girl now?” Tōtōsai asked as he stoked the fire with a poker, watching the coals glow red with demonic fire.

“She’s safe.” Inu no Taisho ground out. “Myōga was able to find another protection rosary for her in time. He told me she should recover quickly.” Although he deliberately left out the part about Myōga falling into hysterics when he saw him carrying an unconscious Izayoi into her bedchamber.

“ _What did you do to that lovely creature!_ ” Myōga had wailed at him. _“Did you really have to kill her, my lord?! She was such a beauty!”_

“You’re lucky that she’s still alive after that much exposure to demonic energy.” Tōtōsai admonished. “I would’ve thought you were going to use more diplomatic ways to persuade her. There’s a reason why they say you catch more flies with honey than vinegar.”

“I had no idea she would go to such extremes.” Inu no Taisho grudgingly admitted.

“You killed half her entourage, kidnapped her against her will, and put her under house arrest," the swordsmith noted, “after all that, did you honestly expect her to just hand over the sword to you? Willingly?” He spat into the fire. 

‘You didn’t tell me that So’unga was under the guardianship of a mortal woman.” Accusation crept into the Inu no Taisho’s voice.

“I told you that the sword was in the Fujiwara clan’s custody and it was by pure coincidence that she was the sorry creature who ended up with it.” Tōtōsai glared at him. “And now, you’ve succeeded in making her not cooperate. She probably hates you and has every reason to.”

“Then counsel me.” Inu no Taisho snapped.

“Why? So you can go and screw things up even more than you already have?”

The Inu no Taisho slammed his fist on the ground in frustration. “I don’t have time for this, Tōtōsai. There has to be another way to break those seals.”

“By all means, go to the mortal realm and find yourself a cleric although I doubt any would want to help you since you are, after all, a demon. You might as well get rid of the girl at this point. She’s going to be of no use to you.”

There was a long, tense pause.

“....that’s not an option.”

“ 'Not an option' ?” Tōtōsai wheeled around to stare at him with his big, bulging eyes.

The Inu no Taisho refused to meet his gaze. “It just isn’t.”

“I see.”

Indeed, the swordsmith could tell there was something that the great demon was holding back. It was rare for the Inu no Taisho to be indecisive.

“I suppose I could use another sword in the interim, perhaps one of your own making. Until So’unga is unsealed.” The Inu no Taisho said after some thought.

“We could.” Tōtōsai agreed. “I’d advise bone for the material. It’s the most durable.”

“You can have one of my fangs then.” The Inu no Taisho rose from his seat. “I’ll return tomorrow. How long will you need?”

“Well you won’t need to wait until the next full month for it, I can tell you that.” Tōtōsai responded with biting sarcasm. “And what about the girl? You should let her go.”

“Not until I have So’unga.”

"Slim odds. You’re waging against a war that you can’t win.” Tōtōsai warningly called out to the Inu no Taisho as he departed the swordsmith’s cavern home.  
  


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Izayoi sat in silent contemplation on the verandah of her compound, gazing at the gold gingko and scarlet maple that bordered the pond as the wind scattered their beautiful drops of color into the water. Her fingers relaxed against the strings of a koto that rested on the lap of her dress and as she shifted in her seat, she felt the jade beads of her second bracelet hang heavily around her wrist. If she tried, she would not have been able to remove it because of the protection spell that lay embedded in the stones or so she had been told.

“My lady,” Myōga waddled over to her in his tiny form, “why did you stop playing? Are you feeling ill?”

Turning from the autumn scenery, she smiled to reassure him. “I was just admiring the trees.”

“Yes, yes, they’re very beautiful aren’t they?” Myōga’s chest puffed up in pride. “This is his lordship’s favorite area in the palace, you know. His library overlooks this garden.”

“Does it?”

“You’re welcome to visit,” Myōga encouraged her. “In fact, why don’t we go there now? I was told you are quite accomplished in the classics just like his lordship is. He has a very impressive collection of all the finest works you can imagine.”

“I don’t think your master would like that.” Izayoi said gently, trying not to burst his bubble.

Ever since she had awoken from her last encounter with the Inu no Taisho, Myōga had been beside himself and endlessly apologized for how the meeting went. According to him, the Inu no Taisho was greatly upset and had ordered that he be given daily reports on her condition. She never got a straight apology but it seemed as if Myōga and the entire palace staff had been told to spoil her every whim. Mysterious lacquered boxes came on a regular basis, each one filled with priceless baubles for her to wear and there was no shortage of sweets being sent from the kitchens. When Myōga found out that she liked to play music, that very evening she was stunned to find several beautiful instruments lying out in her room for her own personal use.

There was little doubt that the Inu no Taisho was embarking on a silent campaign to buy her out and if this was his way to pressure her into unsealing So’unga, she wasn’t having any of it. He had told her would not release her until she fulfilled her end of the bargain and even she could appreciate that he wasn't going to back down from his position. 

_I guess you’re going to have to be prepared for a long wait then_ , Izayoi thought as she bent her head over the koto to take up playing again. She plucked at the strings with her picks, gracefully moving along each note in careful reflection before strumming them into the melody of Spring River, Flower Moon Night.

When she looked up, she found Myōga sighing happily and effusively applauding at her to continue. “Play on, play on!” He insisted, looking utterly drunk in contentment. “There is nothing more lovely than watching you at your music, my lady. You really are the prettiest jewel in this entire palace. It’s no wonder that the Inu no Taisho brought you here!”

“You’re very kind to say so but that’s not the actual reason,” she softly corrected him. 

“I doubt it!” Myōga jumped up and down from the floor. “If that were true, then take a look at _that_!” He fluttered in her direction.

Glancing to her right, she almost dropped her picks when she saw the Inu no Taisho’s tall and familiar silhouette from across the garden pond.

“How long has he been standing there?” She felt her cheeks redden. She was not yet used to the general freedoms in the palace and not having a silken screen shielding her from unwanted views. They had not spoken since the night of the full moon. It disconcerted her to think that he might have had the false impression that she was growing accustomed to her confinement.

“The entire time you were playing!” Myōga happily confirmed, oblivious to her embarrassment. “Shall I invite him, Lady Izayoi?”

Excusing herself, she rose to her feet and after packing away the koto in its silk bindings, she stepped out to the edge of the verandah. The Inu no Taisho was still in the garden, amidst the trees and chrysanthemums that grew in thick clusters. Dressed in a continental nobleman’s robes with his silver hair tied back and surrounded by a magnificent coterie of bronze and yellow blooms, he looked like something out of a picture scroll. 

When he caught her looking at him, she backed away in surprise and before she could open her mouth to say something, he suddenly appeared at the adjacent gallery.

“Do you have to always do that?” She reproached after recovering from the initial shock.

The Inu no Taisho merely regarded her in silence and for the umpteenth time, she was taken aback by the intensity of his gaze. It was so direct and unblinking that she felt as though he could easily read every thought within her mind. She looked away, feeling uneasy.

Finally, after what felt like a tortuously long amount of time, she heard him say, “You play very well.”

She looked down at her feet, unsure of what to say.

“It’s been many years since I last heard music in the palace.” He remarked.

Many years? She was puzzled. He did not look much older than his thirties, perhaps. If anything, his inhuman beauty seemed to stretch the illusion that he was much younger.

“Have you lived here long?” She ventured to ask.

“A century, give or take. What age do I seem to you?”

“Deceptively young.” Izayoi decided to be candid with her response. Normally, she would have tried to be more circumspect and make the effort to weave a line of poetry as this was how she had been taught to speak. Refinement and literary wit was what everyone strove for. But that was in the mortal world and she was now in a different one, where speech was free and without artifice. But by now, she had gotten the sense that the Inu no Taisho preferred to get straight to the point, including what she actually thought and felt.

“Yes, I suppose in our human guises we often appear that way.” The Inu no Taisho agreed. “But compared to my kind, you have only just begun to live. It will be a long while before your own bloom starts to fade, Izayoi.”

“You use my name so freely,” she noted, “and yet I don’t even know yours.”

“It’s Taisho.”

“That is a title.” She knew he was avoiding her question. “I meant your _real_ name.” When she didn’t get a response, she started making educated guesses.

“Myōga often refers to you as a lord so you must have a surname or maybe a clan that you belong to.” She remarked. “Are the western lands your domain?”

“No.” He said, “I am only its guardian diety. Just as the dragon looks after the east, the phoenix to the south, and the tortoise to the north. I built this palace,” he gestured to their surroundings, “to serve not only as my home but as a place where all other creatures within the region could come to, if they are unable to return to their homes. But I am not their liege-lord nor are they my servants.”

“But they choose to serve you anyway.”

“I’ve never asked them to. But they stay because they want to, or at least that’s what they tell me.” He paused. “They’ve been displaced. There’s been a loss in the balance of power in the mortal realm which is only perpetuating the violence within it and attracting evil.”

“I don’t know what goes beyond the capital’s borders.” Izayoi admitted. Occasionally, her father would share some reports about the other provinces but such talks were far and few in between. Yet there was something about the Inu no Taisho’s explanation that rang a bell in her head. She certainly had noticed many more orphaned children running about the countryside and some had even come to the manse begging for food. Nowadays no one could travel without getting robbed or attacked on the road by bandits. Takemaru had once told her that there were some areas in the country where it was so lawless that criminals ruled whole villages under a reign of terror.

The responsibility of governance now rested on the regent’s shoulders and she doubted if the current emperor even knew where to start. Did he know how much rice was imported and exported within the country? How to judge the state of currency? What sort of reforms to implement? Infrastructure to rebuild or create? Her father had once taught her that there was a time when the emperors had total control and now they could hardly walk a step without being handheld by a regent.

“You were lucky to have been born in the station you were in otherwise your life would have been unbearably hard.” The Inu no Taisho commented.

“I don’t think I would have survived.”

He smiled faintly at her blunt assessment. “I’d like to believe that you would have carried on just as well.”

“I am not a warrior like you. I wouldn’t even know how to fight back.”

“And yet,” his eyes gleamed, “you were the one who was entrusted with So’unga.”

“I suppose that’s why you came to speak with me.” She concluded. That night, she had been fully prepared to die and instead had come out of it alive. She wasn’t sure if she could replicate her success today but no matter what, she had resolved not to be the family exception in being the one who broke the seals for no good reason. “My answer remains the same as before.”

The Inu no Taisho’s face had taken on a more serious, hardened look. “It won’t stop me from keeping you here until you agree.”

“Do as you wish.” Her voice was soft, gentle even, but it was a challenge nonetheless.

He saw that she was looking at him now without blushing or averting her eyes in nervousness. The autumn wind had teased out tendrils of her long, dark hair and their trailing scent, which he could easily detect. It was the end of the harvest season yet standing with her now almost made him believe it was springtime.

Her stubbornness should have caused worry but he could wait it out. After all, he was an immortal and passing time was an action as simple and natural as breathing.

In this instance, patience was an easy virtue to achieve.


	2. Beneath the Autumn Leaves

* * *

Part II : Beneath the Autumn Leaves

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_Artist Credit: Unknown_

* * *

There was, in a strange way, a greater freedom in being the Inu no Taisho’s prisoner than how she had lived at her own home. 

No longer confined to a room and shuttered away by customary blinds, Izayoi discovered that she could go wherever she wanted and no one could have cared less. If she wanted to walk the grounds in the morning, she did. If she was bored, she could walk to the library and get any scroll then peruse whatever subject she wanted. There she found classic texts and whole anthologies but discovered other works that she did not recognize. They were written in an entirely foreign script but she could guess from the accompanying illustrations that these were works on mathematics, medicine, and botany. Feeling like she had stumbled upon a treasure trove, she carried off whatever struck her fancy like a bandit and returned to her compound to pore over her bounty. Sometimes, she was so absorbed in her texts that she would forget her midday meal and Myōga had to fetch her. 

As the weather cooled, instead of retreating indoors, she had a brazier set up on the verandah and dragged her writing desk out so she could read by the garden. 

On one particularly fine morning in which the first snow appeared, she was watching the gentle white cascade swirl and frost the trees as she sat by the fire. An opened book lay across in front of her, its pages weighted down by her hand. She was about to return to the latest chapter when she noticed a shadow and looked up. 

“What are you reading?” The Inu no Taisho greeted without preamble from the balcony. 

With surprising grace for one so tall, he climbed down to the verandah and knelt beside her as though it was the most natural thing in the world. 

Izayoi had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. 

There she was, her entire person so intimately exposed without any curtains or screens while the Inu no Taisho simply took it for granted. How flabbergasted her father and handmaids would have been had they witnessed this. For a man to interact with her so closely without any level of discretion would have been appalling to them. 

She showed him the book. 

“You’re interested in medicine?” He turned the pages with a critical eye. 

“I’ve only been looking at the pictures.” She admitted. “I can’t read the text because it’s foreign. I’ve never seen it before.” 

“No, you wouldn’t have,” the Inu no Taisho said thoughtfully, “this book comes from a land beyond the continent where it is mostly desert. The people there write in this calligraphic script and worship only one god. They strive to live by the tenets preached by their prophets.” 

“What a mysterious place.” She was fascinated by his description. “It seems they know a great deal more about the human body than our own doctors. I think they are describing a surgery here,” she tapped on a painted image, “and prescribing certain medicines from plants.” 

“They are learned in science.” He explained and went on further to describe that there were other lands even farther away where great men had academized the study of nature through observation and carefully constructed tests to validate their theories. Such studies extended to agriculture, chemistry, physics, and even the stars. 

As he continued to talk, it was easy, so easy to forget that he was her gaoler. She was amazed by how astonishingly knowledgeable and cultured he was; he knew so much about the country and other realms that existed beyond the sea. She could hardly believe that there were kingdoms even greater and more powerful than the one she had been born in, whose empires stretched across entire continents. He spoke of other mortals who were as pale as the moon, red as clay, or dark as the earth. All spread throughout the world, living in vastly different conditions. Some lived in cities of stone, others in villages, a few by the sea, and even fewer in the wild. He regaled her of the titanic wars that had been waged thousands of years before between these different realms of men, of kings who tried to make their mark in history and even some queens who had the courage to take the throne for themselves. 

She could have listened to him for hours and in fact, she did. By the time there was a lull in their conversation, the sun had set. 

“I hadn’t meant to detain you,” she said apologetically. She was about to rise to her feet when a trio of mushroom sprites cheerfully bounced to where she and the Inu no Taisho were sitting with a tea service. 

Since it seemed ungracious to dismiss him at that moment, Izayoi offered to serve. The sprites had brought in the new tea that she had grown fond of during her stay; a very fine green powder that was added to hot water and whisked into a drink of a brilliant, verdant hue. Smiling at the sprites, she let them have some of the dried permissions and chestnut cakes that came with the tea which they happily carted off with as they dashed away on their little stumps. 

“If you keep spoiling them like that, they’ll start taking half of your food.” The Inu no Taisho warned but he was smiling. 

“I can’t help it. They’re so cute.” Izayoi said as she handed him a cup. Admittedly, she had been very startled when she realized that the staff at her compound were actually an anamorphic group of fruit and vegetable spirits. They could not communicate with her in the same language but she found them to be incredibly amenable and it was easy to be affectionate towards them. 

“I trust that Myōga has looked after you well.” 

“He has.” 

“And you have everything you need?” 

She paused, her lips almost touching the rim of her own cup as she held it delicately between her hands. “I was wondering,” she began carefully, “if you would permit me to write to my father. To let him know that I am alive and safe.” 

She waited for him to reply as they quietly finished their tea and was gratified when he agreed to her request. 

“Myōga can deliver it to your home,” the Inu no Taisho said as he rose to leave. When she smiled at him, it took some restraint on his part to keep silent on what he actually wanted to tell her. That once she sent the letter, her family would undoubtedly demand for her release and the return of So’unga. 

Neither of which he was ready to consent to. 

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A bitter chill descended upon the manse as Takemaru and the imperial envoys waited by the gates. More than once, the men threw deeply irritated looks at the captain, who stood on watchful guard, as if they blamed him for being forced to endure their vigil outdoors. They shivered despite being in their warmest winter robes although Takemaru didn’t seem to react to the cold. All of his concentration seemed to be on the dark woodland that bordered the outer walls of the manor. 

Snow blanketed the ground, frosting the coastal pines in a fine layer of white and the tiled rooftops. It was so quiet that the only sounds that could be heard were the occasional cough or shuffling of feet. 

“Are you absolutely sure that this….demon….is even going to show up?” Someone finally asked Takemaru. “How can we even trust that he will keep his word?” 

“We can’t.” Takemaru acknowledged, his eyes still on the trees. “But we have no choice but to try, my lord counselor.” 

“Was the letter even real?” The most senior envoy made no attempt to hide his skepticism. 

“It was in Lady Izayoi’s handwriting. I recognized it myself as did Lord Fujiwara. We have every reason to believe it was genuine.” Takemaru said. It had been a few weeks since that miraculous delivery had arrived which he could still hardly believe. When Takemaru and what remained of Izayoi’s retinue had returned to the manor, Mototsune had gone nearly comatose and everyone feared he would never recover. That Izayoi was alive and seemingly well had been a major cause for celebration followed by a torrent of anxiety for all. She was in the custody of a formidable foe, that not even the emperor would be able to challenge although it was sacrilegious to say so aloud. 

Upon receiving the letter, before anyone had been able to stop him, Mototsune had dashed off a hasty reply, begging the demon to allow him to see his daughter and had left his response out for some mythical creature to take. It did vanish and days later, another letter came, this time from the demon himself which promised to meet with Mototsune personally. 

It had taken a great deal of effort on Takemaru’s part to persuade Mototsune to let him directly handle the negotiations and the lord finally agreed at the last moment. Only after his personal physician had strenuously objected to the entire enterprise, stating that Mototsune was in no condition to endure additional stress. 

“There! Look!” A third envoy suddenly pointed to the sky. 

“Did you see that?!” 

“Where—why, there’s a shadow—” 

“ _Is it him?_ ” 

Takemaru gripped his sword. 

An armored figure in midnight black emerged from the white horizon, his snow-like hair glinting in the winter light. His golden eyes swept contemptuously over the human entourage as though they were beneath him and just for that alone, Takemaru wanted nothing more than to charge at him. 

“So you finally came,” he coldly greeted. His eyes narrowed in suspicion when he realized that the Inu no Taisho was alone. 

“I came here to speak with Lord Fujiwara.” 

“He is indisposed. I am here to speak on his behalf.” Takemaru stepped forward. “The men behind me are the imperial representatives of His Majesty. We are here to demand the return of Lady Izayoi and the sword So’unga, both of which are currently in your unlawful possession.” 

“As well as recompense,” the senior envoy spoke up but his confidence faltered as he beheld the intensity of the Inu no Taisho’s glare. 

“So’unga wasn't meant to be wielded by mortals. It is a corrupt weapon and your emperor is too weak of a creature to withstand such evil.” The Inu no Taisho said matter-of-factly. “As for Izayoi, since she is the sword’s current guardian, I have little choice but to keep her with me until the seals are broken.” 

“She’ll never do that.” Takemaru refuted. “It’ll take more than threats for her to do as you bid.” 

He became unnerved when he saw the Inu no Taisho smile. “On that, we can agree.” 

“My lord Inu no Taisho,” the senior envoy ungraciously cut into the exchange, “by the mandate of Heaven, it is the emperor’s express wish and desire that his consort be returned as well as the imperial regalia. They rightfully belong to him.” 

“ _His_?” The Inu no Taisho’s smile turned into a smirk. “As far as I can tell, your spineless ruler hasn’t marked her as his own.” 

“ _How dare you_ —! _”_ Takemaru took enormous offense but the senior envoy quelled him with a sharp look. 

“Then how will you repay His Majesty?” The envoy asked, trying to keep the discussion as proactive as possible. Privately, he wanted nothing more than to strangle the captain into silence and have him dragged off. Mototsune was a fool to have placed his trust in someone so immature and emotional for this kind of task. 

“Look behind you.” The Inu no Taisho answered. 

They turned. 

To their astonishment, there were several heavy cypress chests stacked neatly near the manor’s wall. How they got there was a total mystery as well as what was inside them. Fearfully, the representatives approached the chests with great trepidation and the senior envoy, using the tip of his own sword, pried one of them open to reveal a hoard of riches. There were ropes of creamy white pearls, nuggets of gold, polished slabs of jade, ivory tusks, red coral, and basalt amber beads. A second chest held blocks of precious salt, a third was laden with fine damask and silks all dyed in brilliant colors, and the rest contained an accoutrement of luxuries. The men were stunned. Here was a dowry fit for a queen. 

“A treasure for a treasure,” they heard the Inu no Taisho say. 

But Takemaru was having none of it. 

“Lady Izayoi is not some kind of chattel to be bartered for.” He angrily declared. “Neither my lord Fujiwara nor His Majesty would ever consider—” 

“We shall accept on the emperor’s behalf.” The senior envoy interrupted. 

Takemaru whipped around to face him, utterly bemused by the sudden change in direction. Impulsively, his hand shot out to grasp the envoy’s arm. 

“What are you doing?” Takemaru whispered. “I thought we were going to accept nothing less than Lady Izayoi’s safe return and the sword.” 

“ _By the gods_ ,” the senior envoy was offended by Takemaru’s impertinence, “you are a fool. All the emperor really wants is some form of compensation to save face. Do you honestly believe that His Majesty would accept the girl into his service after this? Just the very _possibility_ of her being intimate with that animal has made her unfit.”

Imperiously throwing off Takemaru’s hand, the senior envoy strode forward as close as he dared to the Inu no Taisho and bowed. 

“As His Majesty’s proxy, I accept the terms of your offer,” the senior envoy said, to Takemaru’s outrage. 

“And there will be no objection?” 

“I believe the payment you provided should be more than enough for His Majesty.” The senior envoy smoothly replied, rising from his bow. 

“We are at an accord.” The Inu no Taisho concluded. Then before the senior envoy could confirm, he suddenly reached over and seized him by the throat. Easily lifting him up from the ground, the envoy sputtered in protest as his feet helplessly dangled in the air while his compatriots shrank back in fear. 

“Return to your emperor and do whatever it takes to make him _truly_ accept,” the Inu no Taisho snarled. “Because I will _not_ give up either the woman nor So’unga. Is that understood?” 

“ _Y—ye—yes_!” The envoy choked out. 

“Good. Now get out of my sight.” 

Loosening his hold, the envoy dropped to the ground from his grasp. Gasping for air, the envoy scrambled to get up and immediately retreated to the safety of the manor wall as he massaged his throat. 

Having watched the entire episode with deep disgust, Takemaru dared to venture towards the demon. 

“What are your intentions for Lady Izayoi?” His voice was brittle with fury. “What am I to tell her lord father? He fears for her life.” 

The Inu no Taisho regarded him with a strange, piercing look as if he could read all the hateful thoughts and deep anxieties that weighed on his mind. Finally, after what felt like a long while, he heard the demon say: 

“She won’t be harmed. I swear it. She is safe where she is.” 

“ _Safe_?” Takemaru repeated. “How can she ever be safe with someone like you? How can you even protect her?” His voice rose to a great shout, startling a wild flock of birds to suddenly fly out from the trees. Their wings flapped in the silent winter gloom, momentarily blocking his sight of the Inu no Taisho, and when they finally went, the demon was gone. 

There were not even footprints left in the snow. It was as if the entire scene had been an illusion. 

Raising his head to the grey sky, Takemaru could see nothing past the clouds. There, somewhere in the unknown west, was the demon’s home. A place where he could never reach like Lady Izayoi’s heart. She, who was of greater rank than him. She, who could never be with someone like his own lowly self.

The irony was beyond cruel. 

Hoping that some wrathful god was listening, he offered a silent but violent prayer that one day, and hopefully soon, he would have a chance to confront the beast on his own terms. 

  
  


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Upon the new year, Myōga surprised Izayoi with an invitation to a banquet that was being hosted at the Western Palace and urged her to go despite her initial reluctance. It was odd to celebrate anything, given her circumstances. She had not heard from her father since his initial reply and whenever she asked the Inu no Taisho about it, she did not get much from him other than her father was unwell. Naturally, she was worried, and tried to take heart that at least he wasn’t dying. She was sure that the Inu no Taisho would have told her so if it really was the case, at least that’s what she hoped. 

“Wear something festive,” Myōga had encouraged her. “His lordship expects your presence.” 

“How could I refuse then if that really is his request,” Izayoi answered, much to Myōga’s delight but as usual, he misread her response. 

  
  


In a complete departure from adhering to the colors of the season, she decided on a pretty confection embroidered with delicate sprays of peach blossoms at the skirt and paired it with a soft white robe underneath. Instead of wearing her hair customarily loose, she pinned the upper half with a silver comb fashioned with mother-of-pearl flowers and paired it with an exquisite set of rose quartz earrings, a recent gift that the Inu no Taisho had given her. 

As winter deepened, they had fallen into an easy routine of regular visits. Sometimes, he would accompany her on her morning walks or stop by her pavilion in the afternoon, staying late in the evening discussing the latest text she was reading and even sharing dinner with her. She did not know when exactly it started but whenever he departed, she found herself already looking forward to the next time. Almost as if he had guessed at her disappointment, at every departure she came upon a present discreetly left for her on the verandah. There was a fan depicting a scarlet maple tree solitarily growing in a grey mountainscape. Then an emerald inkstone followed by a set of gilded writing brushes. Once, he brought her a small collection of seashells which she recognized from a local beach near her home. 

She kept these things in her room, occasionally turning the objects over between her fingers as she contemplated on their possible meanings. Was he just being kind? Communicating his interest? Bribing her? Or both? 

When dusk fell, she made her way to the main compound and found it swarming with all sorts of demonic guests. Strings upon strings of brightly colored paper lanterns had been hung up, looking like pastel stars. The hall was so packed with tables that were heaping with all sorts of delicacies, many of which were already being boisterously fought over by sprites. 

Overwhelmed by the cacophony of noises, Izayoi sat herself at the farthest possible place in order to not be conspicuous. Apart from Myōga and the Inu no Taisho, she knew no one and could not converse with the other guests as she had no idea who they were, much less what sort of connection they had with their host. 

Eventually, she spotted him who was seated at the center dais and resplendent in indigo robes woven with a gilded leaf pattern. The color brought out the blue streaks in his swarthy cheeks which made him appear even more attractive than usual. But he was not alone. To his right was a young man, elegantly dressed like a nobleman and looking every bit as haughty as one. To the left was a woman, tall and lithe, surveying the hall like a queen overseeing her subjects. They were equally splendid, peerlessly beautiful with their matching silver hair and amber eyes. 

_They’re a family,_ Izayoi realized at once and the thought struck her with a blow to the heart. Of course, how could she have not known until now? Not _once_ had the Inu no Taisho mentioned that he was married or that he had a grown son. Not even Myōga or any of the palace servants had said anything which seemed incredible. How could she not have been told? She was so shocked that she didn't register until the last moment that the demoness was watching her. 

To her embarrassment, her eyes unintentionally met with the demoness’s own gaze.

The latter then turned to the Inu no Taisho, flirtatiously laying a hand on his arm as she drew in close to whisper something to him. Her face tilted towards him, letting the light give her cheeks superb definition. Her prismatic eyes were shown to great effect, fringed by bristly black lashes that were angled in hauteur. No man could have resisted such a sight. 

Feeling completely out of place, Izayoi rose and slipped out of the hall. 

She walked out of the inner palace to return to her pavilion, determined to lock herself in her rooms and was so fixated on the idea of hiding herself away that she didn't realize until the last second that she was being trailed by a small entourage of turnip and carrot sprites. 

“Oh, please go back to the feast, don't let me ruin it for you. You don’t have to follow me,” she tried to dissuade them but they milled about her feet and some were tugging at the hem of her dress. “I can’t go back.” 

They looked at her with big, reproachful stares. 

“I really can’t,” she knelt down to their level, “I’d much rather go back to my room.” 

Wordlessly, the sprites turned to one another then by collective assent, they started bouncing up and down then pulled at her dress again to a different direction. They clearly wanted to guide her somewhere. 

“All right, all right,” she couldn’t help but smile at their insistence, “just this once.” 

She followed the sprites, heading eastward in the inner courtyard and once she crossed the arched bridge that led into one of the larger gardens in the palace, the sprites halted their progress. 

“Why here?” She asked them but as if they had choreographed it, she caught sight of the most lovely, luminous flowers she had ever seen. Growing right on the water’s surface, their petals were as white and pearlescent as the moon. They looked like lotuses but they were larger and much more beautiful than the earthly blooms she had once beheld in her own garden at home. Delighted, she bent down to gently pat the sprites with great affection. 

“Thank you.” She smiled as they happily scuttled down the bridge and returned the way they came. When they were gone, she lingered by the pond and curious to get a closer look, she reached over to the edge of the water. 

“You’re going to fall in,” a voice warningly called out to her. 

Izayoi turned just in time to see the Inu no Taisho walking up to her from the bridgeway and rose to her full height. 

“You left the banquet,” he remarked, surprising her that he even noticed her absence. 

“I didn’t think it was wise to stay on any longer.” She quietly explained and then decided to be more upfront with the actual reason. “Your….wife….seemed displeased to see me and I didn’t want her to think….” She stopped, unsure of how to go on. 

“She isn’t my wife,” the Inu no Taisho wryly smiled at her which only heightened her confusion. “She is the mother of my son, nothing more and nothing less.” 

“You’re not married?” Izayoi blurted out without thinking. 

The Inu no Taisho looked amused. “You look relieved.” 

“I….I don’t know what you mean.” She tried to backpedal but it was no use and what was worse was he made no attempt to hide how pleased he was. 

“Then,” she couldn’t believe the light, almost teasing tone in his voice, “you’re not jealous?” 

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Izayoi rebuffed only to have him laugh. 

“You’re much more naive than I thought.” She heard him comment. “But I’d still like to explain, if you'll allow it.” 

“You don’t have to, I know how these arrangements work.” It was true. Men having multiple wives was the norm among the nobility. Her father once had three himself but only one, Izayoi's own mother, had borne children. She may have glimpsed at the principal lady of the house today but perhaps there were other concubines that she wasn’t aware of. She grimaced at the possibility. The idea that there were more women in the Inu no Taisho’s life was, somehow, very hard for her to accept. 

“No,” the Inu no Taisho gently countered, “it isn’t what you think. My son’s mother and I are not married even though we do share a child. Her branch of the family had strong objections towards me when they realised I had no intention of pursuing the kind of ambitions that they had. In their eyes, I'll always be a poor match for their daughter.” 

Izayoi stared at him in disbelief. Surely, he was lying. By human metrics, he was as rich and powerful as any lord. Had he been mortal, courtiers and officials alike would have catapulted their daughters to him left and right. The Inu no Taisho glanced at her expression and rightly guessing her train of thought, he went on: 

“I may have a palace but there is no kingdom or title to go with it. My son won’t be inheriting any material legacies from me apart from my blood and strength. His mother’s family wanted a throne. I would not give them one.” 

“Is this why you wanted the So’unga? For your son?” Izayoi looked at him inquiringly. It was, after all, a sword of conquest and would have been a great inheritance to anyone, demon or human. 

“No,” he said at length, “I don’t think it would bring out Sesshomaru’s best qualities at any rate. Besides, it’s not mine to hand over. Yet.” He looked at her meaningfully. 

“You’re miscalculating how helpful I’m going to be.” She turned from him. There it was, laid bare and plain as day. The visits, their long talks, her continued stay at the palace—everything was a pretence. A transaction held them together. Her cheeks reddened in humiliation over her misunderstanding. 

He stepped closer to her and she thought he was going to bid her goodnight when instead, he reached over and gently entwined a few strands of her hair around his fingers. 

“That sword isn’t the only thing I intend to win from you.” She heard him say and before she could respond to this extraordinary remark, he withdrew, leaving her alone in the moonlight among the luminescent water lilies. 

  
  



	3. Snow Falling on Cedars

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**Part III: Snow Falling on Cedars**

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_Artist Credit : Unknown_

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The rains came, falling hard and fast in the wake of many storms that rolled in night after night. In those days, she felt an undercurrent of tension rippling through the palace. The Inu no Taisho was gone for longer stretches of time so she did not see him as often as before and when she did, their visits were short and cool to the point of formality. 

She couldn’t understand it and in the following weeks, she came to find that he wasn’t the only one acting strangely. Myōga tailed her every move, constantly checking on her and she was sure that he had ordered the sprites to accompany her wherever she went. 

“What’s going on?” She tried to get a straight answer out of him but to no avail. 

“Not to worry, my lady,” Myōga reassured her in a totally unconvincing way. 

“I heard shouting from the main compound last night.” Izayoi told him. “It sounded like an argument.” 

“The Inu no Taisho was entertaining some emissaries. A mild disagreement over drinks, I’m sure.” Myōga laughingly waved off even as beads of sweat were forming on his forehead. 

“What emissaries?” 

“From nowhere.” 

“Were they from my father?” 

“No, from the emperor and his regent,” Myōga replied before realising too late that he shouldn’t have said anything. 

“That’s impossible.” 

She could hardly believe that the emperor would send after her, not now. Even she appreciated the fact that he’d be the last person to come after her. But when she tried to get more information, Myōga kept his mouth shut and refused to say anything else so she had no choice but to grapple with the mystery on her own. She didn’t have to wait very long for a few days later, she got all the answers she wanted from an unlikely source. 

When the skies had lightened and cooled to an impassive grey, she ventured out to take a walk around the gardens. All the water lilies from the pond that surrounded her pavilion had lost all their blooms and sunk back to the depths. The trees were bare now, void of all their golden foliage and replaced by a light frosting of snow. She was gazing at the bereft branches when a light voice called to her. 

“Ah, _finally._ I was wondering when you’d slip out of your hiding place.” 

The demoness walked toward her, elaborately dressed in fine brocades that glittered even without the benefit of sunlight. Against the cloudy backdrop, she was awash in vivid color and as her exquisite purple sleeves fluttered in the wind, it was like looking at lavender fields moving with a spring breeze. 

Not knowing what to say or even what to do, Izayoi stood still for a moment, wondering how she was supposed to respond. What was she even to call her? Lady? The main wife? 

“No need for formalities,” the demoness’s amber eyes swept over her in a calculated scan. “I merely wanted to see for myself the latest toy that he’s brought home.” 

Izayoi merely bowed her head in deference. The “he” in question was obvious to all. 

“You’re very quiet. Well, who could blame you for being so obsequious. It’s only natural, given how mortals rear their girls. Confidence is not a valued asset for females, is it?” The demoness’ smile cut like a knife.

“No.” 

“So then, what are you taught?” Her questions were blunt, not unlike how the Inu no Taisho spoke. Perhaps this was the only way demons knew how to communicate. Artifice and graceful responses weren’t much use if you were talking to someone who was likely to kill you. 

“Poetry, calligraphy, music, and household management,” Izayoi listed them out dutifully. 

“Pointless, pointless, pointless.” The demoness sweepingly invalidated. “I was told you were educated.” 

“That is what we are told to strive in,” Izayoi explained in a neutral voice, “but I know that in your world, there are broader definitions for what you consider to be an accomplishment.” 

“No, child. We only understand two things: to conquer or be conquered. What we do and what we don’t do always has a tangible result. Things we can see and touch. There is no doubt then what is success and what isn’t.” The demoness’ skirts rustled as she edged closer to her. “Tell me, do you know the reason for why you were brought here?” 

“For the sword.” 

“Good, you're not stupid after all. I was worried that you were getting the wrong idea for why he keeps you.” She withdrew So’unga from her robes. It was still in its scabbard, tightly bound and sealed as far as Izayoi could tell.

The demoness carelessly tossed it at her feet.

“He isn’t expected to return until late tonight. So take this and go. I’ve even prepared a carriage for you to escort you back home, if you’re brave enough to make a run for it.” 

A long silence stretched between them, to which the demoness reacted with impatience.   
  


“Well, girl? You should be thanking me on your knees.” 

Izayoi finally found her voice. “He promised to spare my men if I helped him. If I leave, their lives are forfeit.” 

“But you haven’t helped at all and clearly aren’t planning to.” The demoness’s eyes glinted in a hard light. “It’s been half a year. The only thing _he_ has to show for all that time is an antique and another mouth to feed. Your very presence here is cause for concern. That witless emperor of yours has proven to more stubborn than anyone thought. He is insisting on your return and has been using his agents to try to extort more from the Inu no Taisho even though the fool paid them off. Twice now. The longer you stay, the greater their demands become." 

_That must be why he's been so distant_ , Izayoi thought of the arguments she had heard from afar and how little she had seen of him in the last several weeks. She almost couldn't believe what she was hearing. The Inu no Taisho had _paid_ a ransom for her? And not just once, but twice? A hostage's kin was the usual victim to pay the price, not the aggressor. The arrangement struck her as extraordinarily counterintuitive. He was recompensing the emperor for his loss and the act seemed not so different from a father providing a dowry towards his son-in-law. But dowries were given in the understanding that the bride was being given to a new household and not expected to return her natal one. Was the Inu no Taisho's own payment terms any different and if not, did this mean he would be keeping her forever? 

Imperiously, the demoness flipped back her long, trailing sleeves, showing off her delicate wrists and the glittering citrine bracelets that hung from them. 

“There are more pressing matters that he needs to attend to than enacting vengeance because you didn’t keep your end of the bargain. You would be doing us all a great service if you were to take this thing and return from whence you came. Don’t you want to go home? I can practically smell your loneliness. You reek of it.” 

Izayoi glanced at the sword. It was almost disorienting to see it discarded. She had never known a time when it hadn’t been carefully kept in its cypress chest and it’s silk coverings replaced once a year, when her father presided over the annual prayers to ensure its continual sealment. It had been presented to fifteen emperors upon the eves of their coronations with great ceremony and there it was, simply lying on the ground. 

There was her ticket to freedom. She could leave now, yes, but could she even _return?_ She had not heard from her father in months even though she had sent a number of letters. The emperor was bound to have been informed of her disappearance and she knew that at this point, her position surely had been forfeited. That was the only silver lining to her situation. But her father….he must have thought she was dead, she had to morosely conclude. She couldn’t blame him if he had given up on her already. 

“Be grateful for this opportunity,” the demoness warned, sensing Izayoi’s resistance. “You won’t get another one.” 

“If I go,” Izayoi said at last, “what will stop him from taking back So’unga?” 

The demoness regarded her in contemplative silence. 

Just _what_ did her first mate see in this child? 

Judging by the company he chose to kept, it was no wonder that her natal clan had never fully accepted the Inu no Taisho as their own. Even back then, it was well established that he was an eccentric for behaving in ways that were incongruous to the demon world. Dogs were social, territorial creatures yet he kept himself aloof from the clans and preferred the company of other beings all over the world. Instead of taking whatever he wanted with abandon, he chose to _fight_ and earn for it, displaying an odd regard for honor. A fruitless and unfathomable pursuit, that was her opinion. 

She, of all people, knew and admired how fearsome he could be. After all, that was the only reason why her tribe respected him despite his lack of a title. There was no finer commander in the entire isle than him and she was proud to be allied with such a mighty warrior. But his strange capacity and want for things like friendship, compassion, and even love was beyond her. She appreciated their uses but couldn’t bring herself to embracing them in the fervent, determined way that he did. A point of contention, she had to acknowledge, that had served to divide them and continued to do so ever since. 

_But maybe you can,_ she thought as she gazed upon the mortal, _since your kind is always involved in such nonsense. Maybe that’s why._

“He won’t be coming after you.” The demoness said. “He has a palace and an heir to look after, vassals who rely on his protection, and many enemies to reckon with. You and this sword are insignificant concerns in comparison.” 

She saw the girl’s eyes darken and watched her reaction with curiosity. To see her struggle and understand her actual predicament was like observing a flower withering under frost. How utterly fragile humans were made by their emotions and to think that the Inu no Taisho held such a store for them...

“You have until nightfall to make up your mind.” The demoness turned away in farewell as she walked back to her own compound. “I trust you won’t take too much time on your decision.” 

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_Night_

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The palace was exploding with the sounds of screens being flung apart, a multitude of feet running along the corridors, and furious shouts. 

Animal sprites dashed to and fro, calling for more pages and lanterns in full panic. Above everyone else, Myōga was in the worst state. In increasing terror, he watched from the corners as his master raged about the palace complex and stormed towards the demoness’ quarters with deadly purpose. 

Upon his return, it had not taken long for the Inu no Taisho to discover that Izayoi was missing. The profound absence of her scent and that of So’unga had instantaneously hit him from the moment he stepped back into the palace’s thresholds. When he summoned Myōga and found the flea clueless as to Izayoi’s whereabouts as well as finding the sword’s casket empty, he realized the situation at once. 

“Call off the search!” He snapped at Myōga, “No one’s going to find her or the sword. Neither of them are here.” 

“But what if someone knows where—”

“The only person who knows where Izayoi has gone is Sesshomaru’s mother.” The Inu no Taisho’s eyes were narrowed in anger. “I could smell her near Izayoi’s rooms and the casket. She has something to do with this.” 

Myōga was aghast but not surprised. The demoness was infamous for causing all kinds of mischief and seemed to take a particular delight any time the Inu no Taisho was aggrieved by it. Darkly, he started to weigh the serious possibility that she had gone so far as to murder the poor girl. It was a thought enough to make his blood run cold. 

By the time the Inu no Taisho arrived at her quarters with Myōga reluctantly trailing behind him, they found her in her inner chamber, already dressed for bed and leisurely combing her lustrous silver hair. Hers was a magnificent, hexagonal pavilion that boasted expansive views of the palace’s fine courtyards and had arguably the best vantage point to look upon the winter moon that hung above the skies. As she sat by one of the open windows with her hair flowing loose and letting it shine against the moonlight, she looked like a picture of divine serenity which made Myōga all the more suspicious. 

“My dear,” her eyes went wide in innocent surprise, “what an unexpected pleasure. It’s been so long since you’ve come to my rooms. Have you missed me?” 

_Shameless!_ Myōga squinted at her, knowing full well his master wasn’t buying any of her bravada. 

“Where is she?” The Inu no Taisho bore down from his taller height. 

The demoness sighed as she continued to play with the ends of her hair. “Could you be more specific?” 

Swiftly, the Inu no Taisho snatched the comb from her hand and threw it aside, causing it to smash into pieces against a wall. 

“That was my favorite,” the demoness pouted. 

“What have you done?” His tone was glacially cold.

“Is this about that mortal girl you were keeping? Yes, I did hear something about her running off. How unfortunate for you, darling, but it’s hardly surprising that a prisoner would want to escape.” Her amber eyes were laughing, it seemed to Myōga, with malevolence. 

“ _You knew_.” The Inu no Taisho’s teeth were on edge. “You knew what kind of danger you were placing her in. Sending her away with So'unga from the palace grounds would attract other demons to its aura.” It took everything for him not to strike the demoness then and there. "She could be killed." 

“You have far more urgent business,” the demoness’s own voice rose to match his in equal enmity, “than wasting time on seducing a human woman.” 

Something like a roar and bark was heard as the Inu no Taisho bared his teeth at her. The demoness too, flashed her own in what might have been a smile but was more like a maul of a fearsome bitch. 

“You forget your place,” his voice was low with threats, “I promised not to interfere with your affairs and you agreed to do the same with mine.” 

“Yes, I remember,” the demoness waved him off, “if you insist on continuing your dalliance with the mortal, by all means, do so. You can give her the moon for all I care as long as _I_ get some assurances too.” 

She rose from her seat and stood eye-to-eye to him. 

“Our son, Sesshomaru, has grown into a very fine but selfish person.” She remarked. “His personal deficits aside, what kind of mother would I be if I didn’t think about his welfare? That is why I want you to promise me that regardless of what happens between you and the girl, Sesshomaru will always be your primary concern.” 

“This is how you advocate for our son’s best interests?” 

“He is your heir and as such, deserves a worthy inheritance. I hope you will consider using that fancy sword in acquiring a kingdom for him.”

“If that’s what you think is going to help Sesshomaru, it seems I have more confidence in his capabilities than you.” 

“I prefer to think long term, my dear. When you die, what will he be left with?” 

Without warning, the Inu no Taisho seized her wrist. 

“When I return from fixing the mess you’ve made, I want you gone, back to your own home,” he demanded. “Where Izayoi and So’unga are concerned, _stay out of the way_.” 

“All this fuss over a sword?” The demoness wrenched herself free and gazed at him with playful spite. “Dearest, you need to lie better than that.” 

“See to it that she leaves,” the Inu no Taisho icily ordered Myōga as he turned to go. 

“Where are you going?” Myōga dared to ask but it was already too late. The Inu no Taisho had vanished into thin air and when he looked up, he blanched to see the all-too familiar shadow of his master's form cross over the moon. 

The sight filled him with dread. 

Tonight promised to return a few corpses. 

  
  


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Izayoi could hear the wind almost screeching in her ears as her phantom carriage raced deeper into the night, propelling her towards what she thought was home. 

Cold, she clutched at her outer robe and So’unga’s scabbard tightly to her. The thrill of escape and dread of being captured was almost enough to split her in two. She took a breath, seeing her exhale briefly materialise in wisps of air from the freezing temperature. It took a week to reach the capital from her province but she did not know how far the Inu no Taisho’s palace was for her to accurately judge the distance let alone how much time it would take to reach her destination. 

When she had first seen the carriage in which it had no horses or attendants, she had thought the demoness had played some kind of cruel trick on her. It wasn’t until she alighted it that she felt the thing move on its own accord as if it were being guided by spirits she could not see or hear. It rushed her across the coastline and was now traversing through the woodland with inhuman speed, giving her some measure of hope that she might actually get to see her father this very night. 

_How do I explain?_ She didn’t even know where to begin. 

“ _Powerful….how dark it is…._ ” a voice whispered out of nowhere. 

Izayoi’s grip tightened on So’unga. 

_“....what divine energy….”_

_“Give it here...give it to us now…”_

_“Blood….I smell human blood!”_

She screamed when the top of the carriage burst open and suddenly felt herself hurtling down fast before it came to a catastrophic crash. 

For a long while, the only thing she was aware of was an intense, searing pain that throbbed on the side of her head. Groping in near darkness, she cast about her surroundings with her hands, coming up with dirt and debris as she struggled to sit up. 

_“We see you, we hear you. Come to us.”_

Panicking, Izayoi dragged herself upright. Thrusting her hands blindly into the mess around her, she seized So’unga. Wrenching it from the remains of her carriage, she stumbled out of and tried to break into a run. 

Sodden leaves and little branches slapped her face as she pressed forward into the unfamiliar woodland, trying to get as far away from the voices that followed. She tripped many times, falling head first into snow and ripping through the long hems of her skirts as they trailed behind her like an anchor. One shoe got caught and the other flung off her foot. It was a sad and unfortunate circumstance that a girl of her time couldn’t hold her ground or fight back with equal measure. She couldn’t even flee. Her beautiful hair, a mark of prestige and stature in her world, had now turned to a deadly weight against her race for survival. 

She tugged at the loose strands that got caught by trees, even as the rest of it became wet and heavy with snow. 

_“Come closer, come closer...give us what you have….”_

With a terrible thud, Izayoi crashed onto a hard, slippery surface of a frozen river. The sword fell out of her hold and skidded across the other side. Arms aching, she barely got to her knees as she took in her surroundings once again. The banks were thick with snow, gnarled with bramble and dead trees. There was no village nearby. Just miles and miles of an unknown, nameless forest. 

Shivering, Izayoi dared to look behind her and instantly regretted it. 

A creature of unworldly proportion with a reptilian-like body from which two terrible heads sprung from was approaching her fast. Their faces were grotesque, dark pantomimes of a man and woman but where their jaws should have been, it was replaced by two snake-like mouths. No picture scroll could have accurately captured the sheer magnitude and terror of this monster. Hell seemed like a pale abstract in comparison to the sight that she beheld now. 

Izayoi felt all courage and speech die within her. Her mind was wiped blank from shock. She could not move or even scream. But she knew, even in her disorientation, that she was going to die. 

She closed her eyes. 

A sudden, great roar knocked her down almost senseless. Immediately, she covered her ears but the sound reverberated throughout the night with a powerful resonance. The ice cracked underneath her and as she scrambled to get away, her eyes opened only to behold a monstrous spectacle. 

Even in the darkness, she was able to discern the silvery outline of a giant dog whose stature and height nearly matched the twin-headed beast. It’s fur was a luminous white with an unnatural silver glint so that even the faintest of starlight could reflect off of it like the sun on a fish’s scale. She heard a deep growl then an indescribably loud noise of something snapping and breaking when to her shock, she saw that the dog had leapt forward and was crushing the beast’s necks with its teeth. 

The beast’s body flailed wildly, smashing trees and throwing snow in its wake as it struggled to free itself but the dog’s jaw did not give way. She could see the two faces and their overly large mouths that gaped wide open as if trying to swallow the dog in whole. 

Terrified, she tried to rise up again to run but her feet kept slipping. 

_"Where is the sword? Where have you taken it?"_

Izayoi saw one of the heads hissing madly in her direction while the other was distracted and trying but failing to escape. 

She backed away. 

_Crack._

Ice split underneath her as the monster’s body suddenly lurched forward and crashed on the lake’s surface, throwing up huge glaciers. 

Like a doll that had been violently cast away by an angry child, her body went through the water. Cold shot and paralyzed her from the moment of contact, instantaneously enveloping her. All breath went out. She could not even swim upwards for her life. Instead, she lay still, feeling the weight of her silks slowly drag her down as well as a sudden, foreign desire to simply _sink._ Death had come and instead of fighting it, instead of flailing to the surface, she let herself fall. 

A stream of bubbles cascaded around her face as the last mouthful of air passed from her lips. 

Then—

Something plunged in the water’s depth and seized the front of her robes, forcefully snatching her away from the lake’s grasp. 

Izayoi spluttered as she came up to the surface, meeting the pitch black sky and air. Wonderful, clean air that was so icy that every breath felt like a knife to the chest. Her dark hair was streaming wet and plastered to her pale face. Her dress had turned into a useless mass of cloth, nearly killing her with its weight. 

Her body violently trembled as she felt a pair of arms grip her to an impossibly warm body and a wintry coat of some kind wrap around her shoulders. To her amazement, the moment the fabric swathed her, she could no longer feel the cut of the wind or wetness of snow. 

Stupefied with bewilderment, she lifted her dripping head up at last to look upon the face of her savior. 

“You….” She whispered. “Were you the…?” 

She could hardly speak for fear of going insane. She remembered a monster from hell in the death-hold of a godly hound that glowed silver in the dark. Silver like the Inu no Taisho’s hair which flowed freely about him in a disheveled, tangled mass streaked with blood. His hands, the ones that were holding her steady, were stained mulberry and smelled of iron. 

She looked into his eyes. _What an unearthly color_ , she thought. So different from the familiar brown of her kind. It seemed strange that such a creature capable of violence could also have something so beautiful as golden eyes.

She could see steams of heat and breath curling from him in tendrils then belatedly realised he was soaking wet. Dazed, she attempted to take off the robe to try to give it back to him but was forcibly stopped. 

“No.”

“You must be freezing.” She protested. Her lips were shaking and now that the shock was wearing off, exhaustion was hitting her fast. All she wanted to do was sink into the ground. She pushed away the robe again when he grabbed her shoulders and roughly tightened the fabric around her as though swaddling a resistant infant. 

“I saved you from slaughter but I can’t rescue you from the cold.” His voice was harsh and immediately she flinched, thinking he was angry with her for having run away. 

“The sword….” Izayoi could barely stand. “I think I lost it.” 

“It doesn’t matter.” 

“But—” 

Instantly, she felt herself be pulled into an embrace as his arms grasped her to him. They did not speak and for several long minutes, all that Izayoi could take in was the faint rustle of bare trees swaying in the night but the Inu no Taisho’s own senses went far beyond that. Her heartbeat, the sound of her breathing, a distant snowfall, a rabbit scurrying back to its burrow, the winter wind encircling them, he could hear it all. 

The bland scent of ice was everywhere and even he could no longer detect the girl’s despite her proximity. What shrouded her was the vestiges of near-death. Had he been any slower, he would be holding a dead woman. For as long as he lived, he would never forget that dreadful sound of her heart slowing into finality and the last gasp of air she took.

That was all the motivation he needed to strike the fatal blow against the twin-headed demon. 

He lowered his eyes to look at her, this pitiful scrap of existence who clung to him now. If not drowning, she could have hit her head against the debris and lost her wits. Or broken her neck. Her hands, so small and delicate, could not possibly be strong enough to tear through the ice. The fragility of humans was frightening to behold, he saw that now. It did not take much to blot out their life. To think that she could have died only by a margin of error...

He held her close and felt her body yield, causing him to tighten his arms around her. The earth could have broken beneath him and he still wouldn't have let her go. After a while, he withdrew just a handbreadth away so he could see her face. The snow had settled on her beautiful dark hair like a spray of white stars upon the night sky and her gaze was affixed in ineffable gratitude. 

“You scared me.” He pressed his forehead against hers. “Don’t do that again.” 


	4. Gazing at the Sea of Clouds

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**Part IV: Gazing at the Sea of Clouds**

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_Artist Credit: Unknown_

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A listless fog followed in the wake of the Inu no Taisho’s silent footfalls as he walked deeper into the swamp. He pushed aside the curtains of vines that hung from the low boughs of willows. By scent, it was still water and greenery for miles around but he knew his intended destination was not that much further. There were no humans here. Fear and deep superstition had kept them away even though the land was rich in wood. But, he surmised to himself, it would not be long before their desperation and greed would overpower whatever ghosts they believed to haunt the wetlands. 

Mortals were slowly, but surely, marking their dominion over the islands. A thousand years ago, he had been able to roam from mountain to mountain without scarcely encountering a single village or city. Now there was a capital, a palace even, propped by a frail little man who called himself emperor. As if such a lowly being could lay claim to the vast dominions that had already been held by magic and spirits as ancient as time. 

The grey sky gave way to thick greenery and his feet stepped on more solid ground than brackish water when he reached a familiar circle of trees. 

Deliberately, he made his way to the tallest and most magnificent one of them all. A singularly large magnolia tree whose branches thrust high like some vaulted ceiling of nature holding up a cathedral of air. 

Upon his arrival, a face emerged from the trunk, lined with age and held together by wooden strength. 

“My lord,” the tree formally greeted to which the Inu no Taisho inclined his own head in acknowledgement. “What a pleasure. It's been so long since your visit. But who could blame you? Much has changed from when you were last here.” 

“You’ve sensed it too, then.” 

“My roots go deep.” The tree stated. “I can see and hear beyond this land’s borders. Such calamities. The earth is being scratched away by the humans so they can feed themselves, to last just one more winter. When they fight, and that's often, they scream so terribly. Sometimes I almost think they are more violent than _yōkai._ ” 

“Weeds, more like. They are growing in number and getting wilder by the day.” The Inu no Taisho paused. “I am not convinced that the other guardians and I should continue giving our protection to the imperial clans. Every successor has been weaker than the previous and it's clear they have no interest in their governing responsibilities. It's no wonder the warrior classes are rising in the provinces. Sooner or later, they'll have the country overrun." 

“Is that why you took their sword?” The tree knowingly asked. 

“So you heard, Bokusenō. Has Tōtōsai has been tattling on me to you?” 

“So’unga has very little utility value to the mortal emperor, that is true,” Bokusenō admitted. “But it’s still a weapon of conquest regardless of who has it. Taking it by force is incurring a major risk on your part. You’ve given the impression that you intend to use it for your own personal gain.” 

He peered at the Inu no Taisho. 

“But why don’t you carry it with you?” 

“It hasn’t been unsealed. I don’t think it will be, at this point.” 

“You sound defeatist.” Bokusenō was incredulous. Not much stood in the Inu no Taisho’s way and if it did, he knew his friend would simply have burned through it like it was nothing. He searched the demon’s face, carefully watching it for the slightest hint. 

“Tōtōsai mentioned that you also seized the emperor’s concubine and she happens to be the sword’s guardian. Were you not able to convince her to help you in this?” 

There was a long, heavy silence that followed to which the Inu no Taisho betrayed nothing. His eyes remained a cool amber but the absence of any expression spoke volumes. Dogs were emotional beasts, Bokusenō knew all too well, and the Inu no Taisho was never one to hide his rages. The stoicism was unnatural. He was guarding something, wary of showing it. 

“You told me that this sword would be my ruin.” The Inu no Taisho recalled at last. “But I think it’s really her that you must have meant.”

“Neither Tōtōsai and I knew that the girl was the sword’s current keeper.” The tree reminded him. “All we had to go on was that So’unga was with the Fujiwara clan. But you seem disappointed, my lord, and I am not sure why. If she is unwilling to unseal So’unga, that is no obstacle. If you explained your intention, I'm sure you could persuade a powerful cleric or a priestess to undo the sealing spells. There is no need to perseverate.” 

“I’d prefer that it came from her own volition.” 

Bokusenō stared at him. “What the girl does or doesn’t do won’t matter.” 

“It matters to me.” 

“But it's ludicrous to allow this entire situation to hinge upon a mortal's whims,” the tree counseled, privately marveling over this newfound obstinacy of his, “Unsealed or not, So’unga is in your possession as is the concubine. I assume the emperor has taken deep offense to this and will call upon the other guardians to advocate against you.” 

“He’s already sent demands. I paid them off. Twice.” 

“It isn’t your gold he wants.” 

“He should be grateful. In only half a year, I’ve made him more wealthy than his own regent.” 

Bokusenō observed the Inu no Taisho with great curiosity. The guardian of the west was a worldly demon, more than capable of grasping truths and realities. But now, he sounded like a reckless adolescent who could only see what was in front of him and not much more beyond that. Deciding it would be wise not to remark on it, he went straight to the point instead. “If you won’t be using So’unga, what is your next step?” 

“I’ll just have to use something else, won’t I?” The Inu no Taisho gave a wintry smile. “Tōtōsai has made me a new sword.” 

“Then I hope it will be a worthy and remarkable weapon like it’s wielder.” Bokusenō replied with great deference. “I take it that you will require a sheath.” 

“Only by your consent and blessing.” The Inu no Taisho said with equal respect. “I couldn’t think of a finer material than your own boughs.” 

“You shall have it.” The tree promised much to the demon’s gratification but ventured to speak further: 

“It seems, my lord, you have made your choices where So’unga and the girl are concerned. Be prepared then for the consequences.” He looked at him meaningfully. “The other guardians will surely come. You must be ready for them. Especially the dragon.” 

“Are you afraid for me, Bokusenō?” The Inu no Taisho grinned. 

_You have no idea what this mortal may cost you,_ the tree warily thought. The disaster that would result was so impendingly clear. He knew the Inu no Taisho saw it too and yet, the demon was going ahead with it anyway. It was a decision that defied logic and Bokusenō was at a loss to what the justification was. 

“Ryūkotsusei is not an enemy to be trifled with. As the guardian of the east, he is also the cardinal protector for the human emperors. He takes on their grievances as his own. He won’t let this go so long as the sword and the girl remain with you.” 

“Guardian. Protector.” The Inu no Taisho repeated the titles in derision. The description could not be less apt for that beast. It was insulting that a descendant from the lofty heavens had degenerated into a destructive force that delighted in chaos and any reason for it. But dragons were bound to emperors and the degradation of their natures was yet another symptom of the wider malady that plagued these islands now. 

All the more reason to fight. 

“Let him come,” he challenged. 

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“You have a new sword.” 

The Inu no Taisho turned his sights from the garden to Izayoi, who was looking at the weapon tied at his waist with great interest. Despite the spring rain, they were sitting out on the verandah of her pavilion again but at Myōga’s insistence, mats and blankets had been brought out for “the lady’s comfort.” A brazier burned low, providing a measure of warmth and every so often, she would pull back her sleeves and out stretch her hands over the embers. 

Her hair was loose today, cascading down her back and pooling by her feet. A tea service of celadon porcelain was set between them including a plate of fruit and sweets jeweled in honey. He saw that she was conscious of season aesthetics again and was wearing robes in varying shades of green, the outer as vibrant as lily pads to the inner which paled into the color of new shoots. She had just put down her cup, her lips reddened from the heat and gleaming like fresh coral. 

He watched her peer after the sword’s curious design. The grip was in a basket weave pattern lined with gold and its scabbard was singularly beautiful, heavy in grain and dyed in gleaming black. When he showed her the blade however, he could see she was puzzled by its battered appearance. So’unga was forged in silver and had a cabochon amethyst at its pommel, she remembered. Whatever this was, it was a novel creation.

“Is this another antique?” She was quizzical. 

“I’ve decided to use this instead as I can’t have the one I need.” The Inu no Taisho explained though not without a touch of irony. “My swordsmith named it Tessaiga.” 

Izayoi kept her gaze fixed on the new weapon, processing his words with care. 

After the Inu no Taisho had returned with her to the palace, she had lain for a week in a fever and it wasn’t until she fully recovered that she learned So’unga had also been retrieved. Like her, he had wrested it from a frozen grave and back in his custody. Since then, she had seen it joined at the hip with his second sword, still rendered useless from its binding spell. She assumed he would carry it on his person for safekeeping but to her astonishment, she watched him detach So'unga from his hilt and lay out in front of her. 

“This is yours again.” 

She looked up at him in surprise. 

“When you are ready, you can go home.” He said, striking an unintended blow to her heart and startling her mind out of its relaxed state. “Myōga can see to whatever arrangements you need to make.” 

“I am free to leave?” She pronounced her sentence in disbelief and when she saw his face, she knew that he meant what he said. This very moment was what she had been praying for in the last year and yet...

What was this? 

She stared at So'unga uncomprehendingly. Her charge was now returned into her care so why was she _disappointed?_

The Inu no Taisho inclined his head with cool formality. “I hope you will remember your stay with better feelings than how it really was and the circumstances that led to it.” 

“I see.” 

“Only the good parts, I hope. At least you can say the food was decent.” 

If she had been in better spirits, she would have laughed at that. Instead she felt...terrible. Her hands clenched into a fist as she fought to restrain the unexpected wave of emotions hitting her. She could go home. She could see Father again. She would be able to return to her little garden and look upon the beach that neighbored her house once more. So why, in the name of all that was good, was she sad about that?

Finding it hard to meet his gaze, she focused on a particular embroidered flower on her dress. “I found nothing wanting.”

“Of course, Myōga and the sprites will be very sorry to see you go. You were a great favourite to them.” 

“As they were to me.” 

“I’d like us to part as friends, if you’re willing, Izayoi.” 

She wished she was somewhere else, anywhere than to live through this moment and silently fumble through this rejection. 

“When you go,” she heard him continue, “I’d like to give you one last gift.” 

“You saved my life.” She gently deflected his offer. “I owe you a debt of gratitude and should be the one giving you a present.” 

She thought about the earrings, the emerald ink stone, the shells, and books left for her on the verandah. All those evenings where they shared tea and traded stories from dusk to twilight. How every night she wore her prettiest robes and sat at her writing table, waiting for him to come, and how every morning she would get up and rush outside to see what he had left behind for her like an excited child. 

He was however insistent. “You can have anything. All you have to do is ask.” 

Anything? 

She kept silent at this remarkable promise, to allow for time to pass and let the reality sink in for him but he didn’t take it back. When she finally had the courage to look at him again, she could see he was serious. 

Busying herself with the service, she gracefully poured a cup for the Inu no Taisho and it wasn’t until after he took it that she set down the teapot and made up her mind. 

“Have you really seen those kingdoms you told me about? The ones in the books that you showed me.” 

“Why do you ask? Were you planning to run away again? So soon?” He lightly remarked but it was not discouraging. Readily, she took him up on it. 

“I’d like to see them too.” 

The Inu no Taisho contemplatively regarded her from the edge of his cup. 

“Is there a way you could show them to me?” 

“Is that what you really want?” 

She nodded. 

“Where do you wish to go?” 

“The continent. Isn’t their lantern festival around this time of year? Or maybe somewhere that doesn’t have winter. Even a place that has castles in the sky. I’d like to see it all.” 

“You mean cathedrals.” He set down his cup with a smile. 

“Yes, cathedrals.” She corrected herself, remembering the painted images of those wondrous structures with elaborate spires that pierced the clouds. He had once told her the people who had built them had hoped to emulate the magnificence of the heavens, to somehow touch the face of their god. These master craftsmen even knew how to make glass and fashion them into colored paintings that shone in sunlight, casting shadows of rainbows in their wake. Hearing his description sounded like something from a dream and the thrilling part was knowing it was real. 

She started to trace out the embroidered flowers on her sleeve again, letting her finger brush along the silken petals and circle the golden cores. 

“If you aren’t tired,” she heard him say at last, “come back here tonight and I’ll take you.” 

He must have wanted her to leave much sooner, she surmised, despite what he said. After today, there would be no more reasons left for him to see her. 

“Tonight then.” She smiled, hoping it was enough to mask her keen disappointment.

Just as he only wanted her to remember the best parts of her time here, she hoped he too would recall her better moments when she was gone. If he would be content to think of her just as she was now, a girl enjoying an afternoon tea with him, maybe that would be enough. 

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He came for her at twilight, just as promised. 

She was waiting for him at the verandah, not having bothered to change into sleeping garments. For tonight, she had selected a relatively plain set of robes, believing it to be a more practical choice for travel than the airy, gauzy dresses she was accustomed to. She had even wound her hair up and fastened it with the many combs she had been gifted when she initially arrived. 

The first thing he did when he stepped back into her pavilion was a critical once-over. Seeing his reaction, she wondered if her efforts on her appearance hadn’t been in vain and started to feel pleased. But then she saw him turn away with a distinct sigh. 

“Here.” Gracelessly, he offered her what looked like a large bundle of…

She took it from him, bewildered. _Fur?_ Her hands ran across the silvery-white material, finding it utterly soft and supple between her fingertips. 

“It’ll keep you warm.” 

“Is this yours?” She wonderingly remarked. 

“You’ll need something to protect yourself against the wind.” He responded without directly answering. 

“Are we flying?” 

“In a manner of speaking. You sound nervous.” 

“No,” she was mystified, “I just….I don’t know how we’re travelling.” 

“I’ll show you.” 

They walked to the main courtyard in silence with nothing but the dull sound of their footsteps walking upon the inlaid stones. The lanterns had been lit, sending pinpricks of gold light along the railings and empty corridors. From all corners stretching to the cardinal directions, the many pavilions and their intersecting bridgeways were visible. Everything appeared strangely empty, giving a haunting impression of an unoccupied palace although she was well aware of the many demons still residing within its walls. 

“Izayoi.” 

She looked up to see him walking a little aways from her. Not looking back, he continued to address the sky and the space ahead of him. “Put the coat on and climb onto my back. No matter what, don’t let go.” 

_What?_

But before she got to ask, she felt the air suddenly change around them as though the sky itself was taking a long breath. Wisps of her hair stirred from their combs as she watched in growing astonishment as his body seemed to elongate and enlarge in the shadows. His legs and arms stretched taller, longer, even his hair seemed to lengthen and whiten to a more lustrous hue that rivalled moonlight. 

“Oh…” Izayoi opened her mouth in incredulous delight and recognition. 

A celestial hound, titanic as a mountain and as striking as the snow upon its peaks, turned on its giant paws to face her with its tail trailing behind. Its deep scarlet eyes gazed down at her from its much greater height and she saw its mouth open, revealing a row of very malicious-looking teeth. 

“It’s an honor to see you again.” She bowed in greeting and when she raised her head, she could have sworn that the dog _grinned_ back although she had never known an animal capable of doing such a thing. The navy streaks cutting across its cheeks bent and widened with every movement. 

“I almost forgot.” She swept the furs across her shoulders as her excitement built up. 

With a surprising amount of grace for one so large, the dog lowered itself on all fours and beckoned her with an expectant expression. 

Slowly, carefully, she stepped forward and summoning all the courage she had, she started to climb up. At first touch, she was shocked at how thick his fur was and the heat that radiated from it. Fervently hoping she wasn’t going to cause pain, she gripped on and continued to make her progress even though her shoes kept slipping against the body. When she finally made it to his back, she swung her legs over to each side as though straddling a horse. 

_If only Father could see me now,_ she thought with some amusement and guilt. This was so much more thrilling than any festival or holiday that she had ever attended in her life. 

With a fierce growl, the beast suddenly lurched forward and she let out a scream of surprise. 

Higher and higher, they rose together, climbing the skies as though they were but ordinary steps. The wind blew in her face while her long sleeves flapped against her arms. Her eyes widened, taking in her fill of the innumerable stars and constellations that winked at her from their lofty heights. 

Tightening her grasp, she looked down to see the palace shrink then darken into nothing as they raced across the night. 

Days later, when she remembered this journey, it would seem to her a wondrous blur of sights and scenes that were so surreal that if she were to describe them, no one would have believed her. 

She was sure they had crossed the sea because she could smell the ocean and hear water lapping despite everything being pitch black. By the time she saw the horizon, it was dawn and to her awe, she saw chains of little islands floating in an emerald-turquoise basin. They were so close that she glimpsed the tops of tall palms, white-sand beaches, and rich tropical greenery lining the coast like a jade ribbon. 

Overhead, she heard the cries of petrels and saw a line of them flying towards a rising sun. A temperate breeze teased out the combs in her hair, carrying the fragrance of salt and a thousand unnamed flowers that grew on this summer paradise. 

It was magic. 

It had to be for she had no other explanation as to how they were able to cross so many leagues with inhuman speed or that the Inu no Taisho never seemed to tire. 

They traversed even more leagues across the sea, leaving the balmy heat of the tropics for a colder region in the north. All she could see was green. Green trees, green fields. They were lush with countless rivers that snaked along wheat crops just beginning to sprout. From the clouds and in the first light of morning, she beheld the ornate spires of a cathedral. A peal of bells rang and as she took in the first notes of a music she did not understand, she gazed upon the mighty pillars of a holy church and its statues of saints whose beatified faces were craned up in adoration. 

“Beautiful.” She whispered. 

Then as the day gave way to dusk, they went through an austere landscape of mountains and valleys of rock untouched by any form of life. The inhospitable emptiness of this wilderness touched her and thereafter, when she heard anyone mention exile or try to describe hell, she would think of this place. 

By nightfall, they came to a rest on the continent, at a remote rooftop of an empty manse. From where they were, she could see a massive palace complex flanked by two great streams and the surrounding neighborhood blocks. It was the most dense layout she had ever seen and knew from the first look that her own capital was dwarfish in scale. Thousands upon thousands of tiny fires illuminated the city grids and where the palace walls stopped but even far more glorious was the sight of the floating lanterns. 

Like effervescent blooms, they wafted into the air to the direction of the remote mountains, guided only by wind. As they made their ascent, their golden lights twinkled bewitchingly like the stars and lent a scintillating effect against the backdrop of the night sky. 

Entranced, Izayoi clambered down the dog’s back to sit on the rooftop instead. Clutching the furs about her, she stepped as close to the edge as she dared then seated herself so her eyes could drink in the scenery. 

A few moments later, the wind rustled beside her and she knew, from the noticeable drop in pressure, that the Inu no Taisho had changed back. She turned to look and there he was, sitting next to her in heartache-inducing proximity and taking in the sights too. 

“Thank you.” Her emphatic gratitude was tinged with emotion. For this night, for everything in between, and all that she was able to see. In only a short while, she had glimpsed the world. She returned her gaze to the gilded city below. “I don’t think my life will be the same after all the wonderful things you’ve shown me.” 

He watched her with a smile and she could not help but notice his splendid profile against the light of a thousand lanterns. He was so handsome. It was almost a crime that such beauty could exist within the demon world and she was finding it exceptionally challenging to think of any man who surpassed him. The knowledge made her morose. 

“I’m happy I could grant your wish.” He reached over to take her hand and brought it to his lips. 

Deeply moved by the gesture, her fingers closed over his. For one, thrilling moment, she thought it would go beyond some kind of invisible turning point. But then his next words utterly shattered whatever hopes she had. 

“Whether you become empress or a nobleman’s wife, I hope that your future husband will be as willing as I was to go to the ends of the earth for you.” 

He had meant to sound kind, she supposed, but it was heartbreaking to hear it. 

“You would have me return to the emperor?” Her voice was rendered low from hurt. 

“I would have you go wherever it pleases you. If it’s the palace to take your place as a consort, you can go. If it’s your home, you can go there too. You are no longer my prisoner and I won’t stop you from exercising your freedoms.” He let go of her hand as he looked away. “It should’ve been that way from the start. Instead, I kept asking you to do things you didn’t want to do and it led you to run away. You almost died as a result.” 

“I wouldn’t have gone if….” 

“If what?” 

She didn’t answer right away so for a long while, they stood in silence and watched the slow, steady rise of the lanterns. 

“After my fever broke,” she said at last, “I was terrified that you were going to punish me for escaping. I thought you were angry. Then, Myōga told me that you stayed at my bedside when I fell ill and you didn’t leave until the danger had passed.” She paused, remembering the effect of what chief retainer had relayed to her. “I wondered why you would do that. I tried to understand the reasons for why you even saved me.” 

Izayoi sorrowfully glanced down at her hand where only moments before, it had been kissed. 

“My conclusion was that you only cared for So’unga which is why you were so concerned about my welfare. Then I remembered what you said to me at the lake, when I told you I thought I had lost it.” She paused, wondering if he would give some kind of indication that he too recalled the moment but he said nothing. “I considered the possibility that it wasn’t about the sword after all.” 

She did not dare look at him now for fear of giving away any expression but it was too little, too late. 

“Now you’ve set me free and made it clear that I must return.” She said. “So I will do as you’ve asked. I’ll go home. I’ll only remember the better memories and try to carry on as I did before. Except, the thing is, I’m not sure I’ll be able to.” 

“Why?” She finally heard him speak. 

“Because I don’t want to.” She wrested out like a child having been caught red-handed and being forced to tell the truth. “I don’t want to live the life I once had. I don’t want to be the emperor’s consort and _I don’t want to go home_.” 

“Then what is it that you want?” 

“ _You_.” 

The effort to admit this felt like it had cost a piece of her soul and no sooner had the word escaped, she was sorry to have said anything at all. Struggling to regain whatever shred of dignity she had left, she was about to rise from her place when his hand shot out and held her fast. 

His thumb pressed into the inner palm of her hand before the rest of his fingers rotated to interlock themselves between her own. 

“Are you sure?” He was looking at her now and she was struck by the myriad of expressions on his face. His countenance was hardened in seriousness, as if pondering the negative outcomes of her outburst. But there, in his eyes, it was unmistakable. A flash of hope, a mutually recognizable longing. 

“I’d like to stay.” It was forward of her, she knew, but she understood that this was not something she could hide with poetic allusion and literary charm. He deserved to hear what she truly thought and felt. 

His hand tightened around hers. 

“You wouldn’t be able to live as you once did. Do you understand? Your home would be in my world and it is not a kind one for mortals.” His other hand reached out to touch her face and admire its perfect sweetness. “You deserve to be happy.” 

“Why can’t I be? With you?” 

“I don’t know if you can.” 

“Because I’m human?” 

“No. Because _I_ am what I am and I'm not sure if you could ever accept that.” 

“I don’t care anymore that you're a demon.” She meant it yet he could see that she didn’t fully grasp the reality of their circumstances. Her eyes were so full of hopes and dreams as beguiling as the stars, with none of the darkness that surrounded them. The right thing would have been to crush them even if it meant lying to her outright and insulting her. This would be easy if she could learn to hate him. 

She might have to live with a broken heart but she would survive and live as she was meant to. He tried to imagine her in either situation: a glittering consort forever enclosed in a nine-fold palace looking after a brood of princes and princesses. Or as a spinster, alone but content with her solitude, cultivating her mind with knowledge from worldly texts and gaining a wisdom that would outstrip her beauty. Neither one gave him any satisfaction. 

He should have walked away. 

He should have let her go. A man of honor would have done the same. 

Instead, he took both of her hands this time and placed them on the grip of Tessaiga. 

He leaned in so that their foreheads met. What had he done to have fortune favor him that he could be this close to paradise? What divine retribution was he tempting by persuading her to this sin? He could see an entire heavenly host including swarms of demons and mortals alike united together in their condemnation. 

_To hell with them._

“In that case, I consecrate this to you and your humanity. Whatever danger comes, I swear this will protect and serve you, even after I am gone.” He promised her as he challenged fate and its ominous scales. “For as long as I live, you’ll have everything of me. Everything.” 

She smiled, blissful and content. “Then...will you allow me to stay?” 

“I never wanted you to leave in the first place.” He murmured. “But I'd rather have had your choice in the matter.” 

“I really thought you were going to send me away.” She was so happy that she could have kissed him right then and there. “Was this your intention all along?” 

“It wasn’t hard to agree to your initial terms.” He admitted. Her lips were only a few inches away and already, he was being disassembled in expert fashion. Every thought, every emotion was being brought out with ease. “I wanted to carry you off the moment you stepped out of your carriage.” 

“You’re a charming liar.” Her eyes brightened and he lost himself in the dazzling starscape of wonder where lovers often get entranced. “I was so sure you were going to make good on your threats.” 

He pulled her forward and their mouths touched before melting into a searing kiss that burned them both and hurtled them down in a passionate chasm that they were only too glad to fall towards. 

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The blue wings of the herons fluttered in the distance, flashing streaks of indigo and pure white. As they spread wide and closed to a neat fold, the birds settled on the surface of the lake, sending wide ripples in their wake. 

Ivory plumes from pampas grass languidly fanned the water’s edge and the bush clovers were already dotted with tiny pink buds, eagerly awaiting the next rainfall for their blooms to open. The lotuses were slowly returning and the silvery branches of the maples were lined again with fresh, star-shaped leaves. 

Mototsune sat in somber silence as he gazed upon the garden’s spring offerings from the balcony of his antechamber. An open letter lay in front of him along with a delicate branch laden with the first cherry blossoms of the season. Their pale pink petals were scattered on the graceful calligraphy and fine paper which had been crumpled by his hands after he had wrung them in anguish. 

Seated far from him at a distance were Takemaru and his personal physician, both of whom were watching him with anticipation and concern. He had hoped to have a private moment but his messenger had screamed his head off when a vegetable sprite popped out of nowhere to deliver the letter then vanished in a puff of smoke before anyone else could react. By the time his personal retainers got hold of the message, the entire household down to the lowliest kitchen maid had found out. Now, to his dismay, he was to have an audience to witness this latest shock. 

“My daughter has chosen not to return.” He said at last, his eyes still on the herons. 

There was a very long silence that followed. 

“By her own freewill, my lord?” The physician dared to clarify. 

“She has decided to repudiate the emperor’s suit.” Mototsune stated, startling everyone in the room. “Her wish is to remain where she is. It seems that the demon who took her now wants to make her his concubine.” 

Takemaru abruptly stood up. “Impossible!” 

“ _Will you sit down!_ ” The physician yanked at his sleeve, scandalized by his inappropriate outburst but Takemaru refused to stay silent. 

“My lord Mototsune—with all due respect—I _cannot_ believe that Lady Izayoi would ever consent to such a dishonorable match. It’s completely out of her character and I’m certain that the letter is a fabrication.” 

“It’s in her handwriting.” Mototsune seemed too dazed to be insulted by Takemaru’s unusually blunt conduct. “I’d recognize it anywhere. I taught her to write myself.” 

“She must have been forced.” Takemaru insisted. “I wouldn’t put it past a _yōkai_ to coerce her to do something against her will. You can’t possibly allow this to proceed. She is an imperial consort! Surely you could beseech the emperor for aid!” 

“What aid?” Mototsune at last turned from the garden to look at his young captain of the guard. 

“Ask him for an army!” 

“For the last time,” the physician was apoplectic, “do not speak unless his lordship requests to hear your opinion. You are just a soldier and of no relation to Lady Izayoi. Lord Mototsune doesn’t need your advice.” 

Takemaru glared at the doctor, furious. 

“It’s all right.” Mototsune’s voice was conciliatory. “I know our captain is merely anxious for my daughter’s welfare and means no offense.” He paused. “I am sure the emperor will be aggrieved by this but I do not believe his advisors will allow him to expend any resources towards reclaiming Izayoi. The demon has already compensated them many times, as you surely remember.” 

Mototsune’s bleak assessment struck Takemaru’s head like a hammer, rendering him nearly insensate with rage. 

“My lord,” he struggled to speak civilly, “you cannot abandon your only daughter to that demon. He murdered half of my men and would have come after you himself if it hadn’t been for Lady Izayoi’s intercession. I fear for her safety _._ We must do all that we can to save her.” 

The physician turned his head away, appalled that the captain had the audacity to think he had a major participatory role in this conversation. Mototsune was a saint to put up with such crassness. 

“What if I were to tell you that it was my daughter’s genuine wish to be with this creature?” Mototsune finally asked. “What then, my captain? What would you suggest that I do?” 

Takemaru vehemently shook his head. “I can’t accept that.” 

Mototsune gave a sad smile. He returned his gaze to the herons who were still on the lake, diving their heads every so often to catch their next meal. “I had five children once, did you know? Izayoi was the third. Her siblings passed away before any of them reached their eighth birthday. My other daughters died when they were babies and my sons perished in the last wave of the plague along with my wives.” 

He stopped, remembering those dreadful months when the entire mansion fell silent and was blackened by mourning. 

“So many of my relations insisted that I send Izayoi away to court when she was a child so she could start a career there. Even then, they could see how much potential she had. Instead, I kept her home. I had her educated. I let her become wilful, even encouraged her to dream for things that were beyond her reach.

“I had no more children but her and at that time, I did not want to give up this last daughter to the palace even if it meant damning her to obscurity. But if I hadn't been so short-sighted and tried to be more ambitious, she would have had a better future. She could have been crowned empress, maybe. So you see, it was my own selfishness that brought us to this situation.” He morosely concluded. 

Takemaru and the physician said nothing, having been rendered silent by their master’s candidness. 

“Or, perhaps, my folly was not understanding who my daughter really was." He watched as the herons at last opened their wings and flew off. “Neither being a consort or remaining home with me would have suited her. I guess she has outgrown us all in that respect." 

Mototsune gathered up the letter, scattering petals everywhere. The cherry blossoms remained undisturbed on the mat. 

“She tells me she is happy.” He commented as though to himself. “I’d like to believe her.” 

“My lord—”

“You may go.” Mototsune dismissed them both. 

Forced to swallow back his words, Takemaru bowed low as did the physician and they retreated from the room. 

As soon as they were out of Mototsune’s earshot, the physician rounded on him. 

“I will not have you continue to disturb his lordship’s peace of mind with your ludicrous ideas.” He sharply reprimanded him. “He has been in a fragile state since Lady Izayoi was taken and it does him no good when you attack him like that. Have you no respect?” 

“Have none of you any courage?” Takemaru’s eyes flashed in anger. 

“ _You_ were the one in charge of her escort.” The physician scathingly reminded him. “If there is someone to blame, it is you, Takemaru, and what a pity you can never undo that mistake. You would do well to remember that the next time you are in conference with Lord Mototsune.” 

The doctor swept past him in a huff, leaving Takemaru in the corridor to brood on his sense of failure, overwhelming frustration, and despair. 

Izayoi was _happy_? 

He couldn't bring himself to countenance the idea. When he had first heard the news she had been selected as a consort, it had taken him weeks to accept that she would never again grace his line of sight. After she had been spirited away, it was months before he was able to start to hope again and even believe that she could somehow return one day. That he'd see her walk about her gardens and he'd hear the strings of her koto ring out in the distance. 

But now...now…. _this…_

His hand closed into a fist. One thing was clear, and had to be done. 

_I will bring you home,_ he vowed. 


	5. Love Amidst the Twinkling Stars

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**Part V: Love Amidst the Twinkling Stars**

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_Artist Credit: Unknown_

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When spring came and warmed into a heady summer that year, the palace retainers could hardly keep pace with the Inu no Taisho’s whereabouts. He would disappear for hours and by varying degrees of unpredictability show up again unannounced. Sometimes he would be found at Izayoi’s pavilion where he could be seen lounging around the verandah, deeply engaged in conversation with the girl. In other instances, they’d catch him on long evening walks or sharing dinner in her company. Once, to their embarrassment, they came across the pair at midnight after they failed to return from a woodland excursion that had started midday. 

When they turned to Myōga for an explanation, the flea was only too happy to confirm their suspicions. A romance had developed between the great lord and his mortal charge. 

As the rumors spread throughout the palace and even beyond its walls, reactions were decidedly mixed. Demons and humans consorting with each other was not unheard of but it was rare and the results were usually poor. This was, by all accounts, a most uneven match and there was no shortage of people who felt that the Inu no Taisho was making a colossal mistake. His first choice had been a failure, so what difference would there be with the second? But, they grudgingly had to admit, the two made an exceptionally splendid pair and anyone who had seen them in person readily attested to it. 

Only a select few wholly supported this new venture because they benefited from the pronounced change in the Inu no Taisho’s demeanor. He had smiled more in these recent days than he had in the past two centuries and was better inclined to generosity, even quicker to forgive and act on mercy. What better time was there, they would argue, to ask him for favors than now? 

For Izayoi, the mere experience of living was like a waking dream. Half the time, she felt intoxicated as if the brilliance of the seasons had placed her under a spell. Happily, she abandoned all caution and reserve as she let herself be led by the irresistible pull of her karmic connection to the Inu no Taisho. 

The moment he returned from his requisite sojourns along the western territories, they would slip away together on some secret adventure. He would take her to visit his favorite forests or to fragrant hillsides where splendid groves of cherry blossom and paulownia trees grew. The grass was so lush and strewn with carpets of pink and purple blossoms that they would often lie down to look at a flowered sky overhead. 

Nature became her classroom and she could not have asked for a more engaging instructor as her lover. Anything she didn’t discover in his library, she learned from observation. He showed her a complete map of the heavens, naming each of the planets and constellations as they were known instead of ascribing false legends to them. He pointed out all the seas, describing the types of fish that could be found in each one and what direction their respective currents tended to go. When she expressed a growing interest in medicine, he gave her priceless manuscripts that contained painstakingly drawn illustrations of the human anatomy. The first time she saw what the human heart actually looked like and read how it functioned was a revelation. She stayed up all night, thunderstruck with wonder by the knowledge and filled with amazed horror that so few people knew it. 

Their lessons, shamefully, were not always on academic subjects. 

A first kiss often leads to the fulfillment of a hundred thousand more. Stolen, permitted, affectionate, passionate, brief, and long, she had them all. In corridors, beneath trees, within her chambers, by her pavilion’s pond, even amongst clouds. She came to know the scent of his clothes and the feel of his hair wrapped around her fingers. What made him laugh? What provoked his ire? What inspired his respect? His contempt? She wanted to know it all. Like a beachcomber stumbling upon a shell, she picked up on his nuances and treasured them as part of an ever growing collection. 

As spring deepened, the garden burst into a spectrum of color. Wisteria twisted themselves around the columns of the main building to dangle amethyst clusters in the air. The hydrangeas turned into a vibrant blue, offering up plump bouquets in various shades of cerulean and sky. Blush camellias, sweet osmanthus, bellflowers, and kerria rose ran rampant by the edges of many streams. The lotuses, as if not to be outshone, rapidly spread their wide leaves across all the garden ponds and crowned each surface with their many-petaled pearlescent blooms. 

It looked even more beautiful at night, particularly when the moon was out. Now that the weather was warmer, she threw open all of her windows so she could enjoy a near-panoramic view. 

Sometimes after bathing, she liked to gaze at the garden as she combed her hair. 

Ensconced in her inner chamber, she sat on her reed mats with only her silk shift and her standing mirror. After painting the teeth of her acacia wood comb with camellia oil, she ran it through the ends of her hair first, methodically working out the knots. At home, it used to take her maids hours to wash these heavy black tresses and help her fan them out to dry. The memory hit her with melancholy. She remembered lying on her mats, her hair spread out and brushed by a multitude of hands, and listening to their happy chattering as they told her about so-and-so’s love affairs or the latest fashions they heard about from the capital. 

Gloomily, she wondered how everyone was doing now. If the manor had changed much in her absence and whether her father had adapted to an empty household. 

Her eyes flitted from the lotuses to the stately ornamental trees when—

Her comb hit a snag. 

She tugged at the unyielding clump of hair, somewhat impatiently, when within the mirror’s reflection, she saw another pair of hands extricate the offending comb away from her grasp. 

She was so stunned by the Inu no Taisho’s sudden intrusion that she could not even express her shock, or really, anything. This was the first time he had ventured so far into her rooms before. He had never asked that of her and she was not dressed. 

The air about him stilled when he knelt beside her, carefully working through the tangles with his own fingers, teasing them out with a surprising level of care and delicacy. From the mirror, she glimpsed his face, a visage of serenity that gave away nothing yet suggested everything. 

She felt him hook a few wayward strands behind her ear then brush the rest of her hair away from her right shoulder to reveal a bare, white curve in the semi-darkness. 

She watched him lower his head, felt his lips brush along the skin, and his hand rest on her shoulder. His eyes were closed as he breathed her in and she wondered if he could detect the jasmine water from her bath or the dried lilacs she used to scent her garments. She remained still as the pads of his fingertips circled an exploratory pattern from her clavicle to her neck. 

He glanced at the mirror, observing her reaction and looking as if he was waiting for something. 

Staring back at his reflection and her own, she saw her lips part to speak before they curved into a smile. 

“Yes.” She murmured her consent. 

If only she could have captured the expression on his face when she said it. She would keep it in her memory forever. 

“....what do you know of men?” she heard him ask. 

“Very little.” She admitted, her eyes still on the mirror. She could tell that this surprised him just as others had been. Virginity was shunned by women of her standing, seen as some kind of prudish evil that could be cured into respectability by torrid trysts. But in this, she was an anomaly. Trying to explain to someone that she preferred to give intimacy in a genuine love-match was like persuading a fish to survive in the desert. 

“You would be my first,” she quietly added, hoping he wasn’t put off, “as you are in all things for me.” 

He smiled at her confession and she too, smiled back, relieved at his acceptance. She did not think a human man would have been as accommodating. 

“And what do you know of beasts, like me?” 

She lowered her eyes, a little shy. “I know the theory, but not the practice.”

He studied her reaction then decided to ask anyway, “What pleases you?” 

“Well, I love learning,” she looked up at him in confusion, wondering why he was asking her this now. “I love the gardens too and our teas, of course. Oh, and the camellias you brought me yesterday—” 

“Izayoi.” 

“Yes?” 

“What gives you pleasure?” 

It took her a long moment to finally understand what he actually meant. 

“I don’t really know,” she was brought up short. “At home, I was with my maids almost all the time. There’s so little privacy, not like here. It was impossible to be alone and if I wanted to be, I had to be careful and get creative.” 

“Such as?” 

She blushed at how explicit their conversation was turning but acquiesced to reply, telling him as much as she was able without incurring further embarrassment on her part. There was no way of getting around some facts so she spoke plainly. Pressure and friction were found to be reliable tricks. Pillows, towels, and sometimes her hands had been used. Everything had to be rushed but when she managed to find time, it was luxurious. Haste ruined things. To her surprised gratification, he was attentive and listened to her with intent as though he was memorizing her exact preferences. 

“What about you?” She turned the question on him, nervous and curious at the same time. 

“You’ll find out soon enough.” His eyes betrayed a flash of mischief before they grew serious again. “I want you to answer me honestly. Did you have any expectations of what your first time would be like?” 

“No,” she told his reflection, thinking of a few occasions when she had directly asked her mother’s servants or her own about the machinations of sex but they had been too mortified to tell her anything useful. “But I suppose that one hopes, as do most girls, that it’d be...magical.” 

“Hm.” It was hard to describe his expression. There was an equal measure of exasperation, jaded amusement, and contemplation; she didn’t know what to make of it. 

“It’s rarely like that, for humans and demons alike,” he told her but drew close to impress a kiss on her neck, “but it doesn’t mean we can’t get some pleasure from it.” 

Perhaps it was his inviting tone or how his eyes had darkened but something about the way he said this gave her a dangerous thrill. There was a part of her, now fully awakened, that was _very_ willing and yearned to ask him to do things that she couldn’t expressly name or request with her body. 

As if he had read her mind, he reached over and pulled her shift down with ease, exposing her breasts into the open air. 

His mouth was on her throat and as she leaned back against him, she felt his hands grip both breasts greedily, tenderly, harshly. Then in a rather impressive display of dexterity, he managed to turn her around and his lips were on hers again, crushing her breath away. 

When she finally came for air, whatever presence of mind she had was completely lost. Dizzy, she felt him pinion her to the mat and the rest of her shift broke apart into pieces as his nails cut across the seams with ease. The weight of his body pressed on top of her and she was struck by his strength, how easily he could overpower her. As she tried to regain her bearings, she heard him tell her to lie still. 

“What?” She whispered, belatedly wondering why she was seeing melting stars rather than the ceiling. 

He didn’t answer her. Instead, he parted her legs open and she felt pressure lifting from her chest as he moved down, pressing kisses from her navel to her thighs. 

_“Ah—”_

She gasped in surprise when she felt the coarse heat of his tongue on her slit, gently flickering along its opening. Slowly, he pressed against her, creating a sensual balance between steady, constant friction and the slickness of his saliva. She lay there, bemused and startled by this ardent attention, not knowing where this was leading. But gradually, she started to feel a deep tension rippling between her legs as his hand grasped her thigh and the other gripped her abdomen in a loving vise. 

Maddeningly, every so often he would stop and pull himself up to suck at her breasts, clasping them so close to his face that she was sure his breath would stop in the midst of this carnal embrace. 

His long silver hair grazed her hips as he built up his speed but maintained a consistent rhythm. Involuntarily, she lifted her hips in response as the want for his tongue and forceful pressure grew stronger. A great need unlike anything she had ever known, primal and dark, was taking over. 

“Please…” her voice was taut as she begged but for what, she didn’t know. “ _Please._ ” 

Her hands were gathering up the edges of the mat at her side, nearly breaking the fine reeds as she balled them into fists. She was losing herself in the motions, unable to think beyond the next pull and twists of his tongue. 

When she finally came, it hit her senseless like a blow to the head and sent her mind into a blissful blank followed by a crash of pleasure. 

By the time she had a chance to catch her breath, he was on top of her again and his mouth had seized hers in one savage motion. Her hand flew up to touch his chest, marveling over its fine angles as the other reached for his face. How brilliant the azure mark was, how sharp of a relief his cheek cut in the dim shadows of her bedroom. She could feel his manhood, hard and hot, flattening against her body and determined to make a breach. 

With one tug on a sash, his robes came undone and in another instant, the tip of the member was already at her. She moaned against his lips, fighting to breathe, when she heard him grunt and in one feral thrust, he was inside. 

The shock of the dragging, warm wetness and pulsating pressure from her was staggering. He clutched at her body, insensate. Her neck lurched forward, deepening their kiss as the rest of her senses spun out of control and a hollow pain bloomed between her legs. Gasping for air, her lips broke away and bumped against his shoulder as his hips rolled into hers. It hurt, she expected that, but there was a degree of pleasure too. 

She writhed along his body, gripping at his sides, unaccustomed to the sensation of flesh hitting on flesh. To feel this stretched and _full._ She had no idea what it had cost him to not not tear into her viciously and accelerate to a punishing pace that would have surely broken her. 

He pushed into her again— _again_ —

He groaned as he pulled back and thrust forward, feeling the plummy edges of her cunt rub against his balls. Forcefully, he flung her hands from his hips and wrested them on the ground, locking them with his own as he rocked against her in greater speed. He lunged for her throat, trailing his tongue along it’s white length and feeling the hum of her voice on his lips as she gasped. 

The sheer smell of her arousal and virginal blood was overwhelming him in surges of ecstacy. If he didn’t stop— _couldn’t_ —his beastlier instincts would make a run for it. He could feel the animal within him _roaring_ to turn her around and fuck her senseless. All it cared about was satisfying the throbbing in his cock and its ravenous, burning need to come. 

He gave another thrust, hard and fast, as his nails slaked her palms and wrists. 

He rasped her name against her beautiful hair; how he loved this lustrous black spill that fell down her back and pooled at her feet. How many men had been entrapped by them, he dared to wonder, and how remarkable that _none_ had touched or seen them rippling around her naked breasts. He had even beaten an emperor to the chase and the thought alone made him exultant with triumph. 

She was keening into his chest, drowning fast in waves of pain and pleasure. He was losing her. 

It took everything he had for him to slow himself. With extreme effort, he managed to tell her: “Get on top of me.” 

Dazed, she felt him suddenly come to a stop and his strong arms grasp her shoulders, pulling her upright. A minor struggle of limbs later, she was straddled atop him with her hair tangling with his own and tumbling over her breasts. Silver and black. She was mesmerized by the contrast and even more by the primal lust on his face. That intense look in his eye, what strain of emotion. She couldn’t believe it was really _him_ she was seeing. 

Clinging to her hip with one hand, he used the other to guide himself back into her. He choked as her flesh encased his member again and before he completely lost his mind, he ground her hips on top of him, forcing her to push downward. She looked so intoxicating, lips red and face glistening with a sheen of sweat, that he pulled her down again for a sweeping kiss. 

She moved at first with uncertainty, shifting at times until at last, he felt her body snap particularly hard against him and knew that she had found a point of rapture to focus on. She leaned down, digging her fingers into his shoulders. 

With smug satisfaction, he glanced down to see her breasts heaving and bouncing from effort in utter contentment. Her hair was falling over them both, blocking out what little light was left of the day. Every so often he would lift up his hips midway, eliciting a strangled cry. To think he had reduced a highborn girl of imperial aspirations to _this._ Her voice raw with passion and her divine body riding his own with matched ferocity. 

She was close.

She could feel the promise of it building up, cresting higher and higher like a tidal wave about to descend. Then she was gone, wracked by the final crash and sunk into the depths. She slumped over him, barely conscious, when she felt him rise and throw his arm around her body. He let her down to the floor and before she knew what was happening, he had spread her legs open and was inside her again, this time without restraint. 

She held onto his shoulders, closing her eyes as she moved her hips with his as fast as she could but his pace was becoming unmatched, brutal even. She could feel him breathing hard against her neck and tried in vain to hold on, to run parallel with him again but it was no use. His mind was on fire. He couldn’t hear anything but his own pulsing heartbeat. 

Relentlessly, ruthlessly, he thrust into her, driving himself as deeply as he could with each strike to slake off the terrible hunger that tore through him. Her legs were now wrapped around him, edging him closer to oblivion. 

A ragged groan ripped from his throat as he came, pulsing and throbbing out everything he had. 

Spent, he lay on top of her, reveling in his exhaustion as he descended back down to earth and reality. They laid still in a breathless daze with only a heavy, sweet silence surrounding them in the afterglow. 

When she moved to sit up, he lazily threw his arms around her.

“Don’t go.” The order came out to no more than a murmur. 

“I should clean up.” She teasingly protested and tried to wriggle out of his embrace. In compliance, he shifted his weight away from her but pulled her close so that she laid at his side with her face just a handspan away from his. 

They gazed at one another, drunk with gratification and happy that this was no dream but a mutual desire that had been fulfilled at last. 

“You’re tired.” Izayoi gently stroked his temple with her fingers as his eyes struggled to remain open. His lashes fluttered against the palm of her hand as it grazed over his face. “I never knew sleeping with a demon was so…” 

“What?” 

She gave him a dazzling smile. 

“Fun!” She burst giggling. 

Relieved, he lovingly clutched her in his arms. “You’re not hurt, are you?” He glanced below at her naked body. 

“A bit.” She admitted, feeling a dull soreness and ache. Her thighs were still wet from his cum. “But I’m sure it will pass.” She added quickly when she saw his brows pinch together in worry. 

“I should have gone easier with you.” He muttered, looking disappointed with himself. His concern was touching. 

“I rather enjoyed it,” she confessed, which made his head swell with pride. “I hope you won’t stop next time.” 

His brow arched. “Next time?” 

“Don’t make me beg for more,” she playfully slapped his shoulder. 

He drew her back in, planting a kiss on her forehead as he started to doze off. The scent of lilacs would be embedded in his dreams today, he was sure of it. 

“Please don’t go.” He sleepily reminded her again as a heavy slumber drew fast upon him. 

“Where would I?” He heard her tease him but her voice was soft now and he felt her kiss him ever so sweetly. She was nestling back into his arms, her hair spreading in a tangled disarray as she too fell asleep. 

The garden had cooled into a dusky blue as the sun set and where the cicadas should have sang, there was only the sound of distant waterfalls and the branches of trees rustling in a gentle wind. 

He could have lain there forever, wrapped in this wild, wonderful reverie of spring and content to never wake again. 

If _this_ is what the poets spoke of, what the gods reputedly feared, he understood now. 

This celestial feeling of completeness and the terror of losing it. 

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“...you never told me your real name.” 

She laid on his chest, scantily wrapped in linens and tracing out circles against his skin with her fingers. 

It was hard to tell whether it was morning or night. 

They had barely left her pavilion in the past three days and as if the palace understood his wishes, no one disturbed them. The only indication that anyone else was around were the lacquered meal trays that had been thoughtfully left out for them. They devoured it all. The delicate, enamel-like fillets from a variety of fish, roast wild fowl, vegetables simmered in clean broth, pine nut gruel, seven-grain rice, and the best fruits of the season prettily arranged in porcelain. Cool slices of white pears, rosy peaches, and apricots the color of a beach sunset set alongside small rows of honeyed rice cakes. 

After sharing meals, they’d sit to talk, trading thoughts over osmanthus tea or sake then inevitably conversation would give way to lovemaking. Whether in the deep hours of twilight or early breaks at dawn, they explored the geographies of each other's bodies, happily learning what elicited smiles and invoked bliss. He couldn't resist throwing her on top and watching her sink down on him with studied pleasure. She in turn would sweetly torture him with slow, passionate kisses before pressing her backside against him, knowing it would drive him to tear her clothes off. Their paces were all over the place from gentle to exhilarant but ended on an equally concordant note. 

It didn't take long for either of them to fall into the habits of lovers. Sometimes he would join her baths and was just content to wash her lovely back, watching the warm water run down the outline of her spine. They would sleep side by side in bed, quickly becoming accustomed to seeing the other as the first and last thing upon waking or dreaming. Soon, it seemed natural to find one another in the same room, their lips meeting easily and their hands entwining with loving familiarity. 

“Don’t you think I should know by now?” He heard her murmur. 

“You won’t like them.” He grinned. 

“ ‘Them’?” 

“One given to me at birth and the other when I became a guardian.” 

“Please tell me.” He could see she really wanted to know and decided, why not, to oblige her. Rather conspiratorially, he leaned in so he could whisper them in her ear. 

“Oh I should have known!” She laughed good-naturedly when he told her what his birth name was. “It’s so _obvious_!” 

He rolled his eyes. “You can see why I rarely use it.” 

“I hope you don’t regret telling me,” she looked quite sorry, “I’ll call you by your title in public like everyone else does.” 

He smiled indulgently at her. “I wouldn’t even mind being referred to as ‘dearest’ as long as it’s from you.” 

“I do like your guardian name too,” she insisted. 

She mulled over them, fascinated by their novelty and rareness. Although he never said so, she wondered if he only went by his title to maintain an impersonal distance. A guardian deity, she was starting to realize, were not always noble or responsible. Their duties required them to do whatever was necessary to keep control and that included killing. Maybe that was why he guarded his names so closely, not wanting to add a gruesome list of crimes against humanity and demon-kind to it. 

“What’s wrong?” He felt her tense up and started to stroke her hair, trying to soothe away the spike of sadness he sensed. 

“It’s nothing.” She kissed his chest in reassurance and let him continue to brush his hand along the back of her head. “I was only thinking.” 

“Of?” 

She didn’t answer him, preferring to continue to lie there in peaceful silence as she felt his chest rise and fall in the dependable rhythm of breathing. To be adored like this, she knew that somehow she was singularly fortunate. Not one of the thousands of poems she had been forced to commit to memory could accurately capture the carnality and intense love she had felt in the past few days. What were they but flimsy turns-of-phrases to matchless perfection? 

She closed her eyes, taking in the scent of his skin. 

Being with him like this was surreal. 

Then again, she had to smile at her mistake, she was finding that reality was more unreal than any fantasy or expectation she could fashion in her dreams. 

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	6. Floating Bridge of Dreams

* * *

**Part VI: Floating Bridge of Dreams**

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* * *

_Artist Credit: Unknown_

* * *

Summer ripened into a warm autumn, generously spreading its long sunlit days and sweltering heat into the harvest season. 

At a time when the trees were supposed to turn, instead, the morning glories and sunflowers flourished to captivating lengths and heights. Lavender and mulberry took over the chrysanthemums, carpeting the grasses in shades of purple. There were so many daylilies that Izayoi had vases full of them decorating her rooms with their bright, sunny colors. 

It was around mid-fall when the palace noted a substantial change to its household layout. The Inu no Taisho had asked Izayoi to move into his own pavilion, the largest and grandest structure in the entire complex. When he had first brought it up, she was confused by the proposal, having been used to a custom where wives lived apart from their husbands in their own separate suites. 

“It’s what the nobility does,” she tried to explain but he wasn’t having any of it. 

“In your world, yes, but not in mine.” He pointed out. 

“So I’m going to share your rooms and sleep in the same bed as you?” She was intrigued by the novelty of this arrangement and recalled that a long-dead emperor overseas had done something similar with his own consort, the scintillating Yokihi. She felt a sense of foreboding when she remembered the story, that the ruler had ultimately executed her under threat of being dethroned. 

“I prefer to keep you close to me.” 

“But I’m not…” she bit her lip. _Not your wife._ “We’re not even married.” She bumbled on. “If you take on other concubines, how do you think they would feel if—”

The intensity of his gaze stopped her and from the solidifying silence between them, she realized what she said had offended him. 

“ ‘Other concubines.’” He repeated. “What makes you think I’d…” he broke off, deeply vexed. 

“Unless there are others I’m not aware of, am I not your second?” She said very quietly. _Not your first, like you are to me._

“Demons mate for life.” 

“You already have a mate.” 

“For reasons of state.” He needed her to understand the distinction. “I chose her because I had to. I chose _you_ because I _wanted_ to.” 

That prior union, however brief, was a constant source of regret. Hundreds of years ago, he had once fought the great panther from the north and that miscreated thing had died cursing him. When he deigned to the primeval lust and duty to sire with the demoness, he thought _that_ had been the panther’s vengeance exacted upon him. But they say cats can curse you onto the seventh generation and he still had a few more centuries left to reckon with if that was true. 

It wasn’t long before he and Sesshomaru’s mother broke away into a cold arrangement of living entirely separate lives as they once had before. She, in her seat above the clouds. He, on his patch of earth enveloped by magic. Their son had been forced to live in purgatory between the two realms since then. 

_If you want a great fuck, I can do that. If you want a strong dame to sire your bloodline on or have a ready-born fighter to be with you in battle, I can do that too,_ the demoness had once told him in a rare moment of sincere reflection. _But I_ cannot _give you what was never there in the first place and you cannot ask me to be someone I don’t want to be._

“You once asked me why I hadn’t married my son’s mother.” He recalled. 

How could she forget? Nervous and uncomfortable, Izayoi started twisting some strands of hair around her finger. 

“Is marriage something you’d want? Is it that important to you?” She heard him ask. 

Her hair was wound so tightly, she could feel her finger throbbing from the lack of circulation. 

“Izayoi.” He sounded impatient to hear her answer. 

“....yes.” She forced herself to directly look at him. “Some day, at least.” 

“And this would make you happy?” 

She thought about her late mother, who had been her father’s youngest wife out of the three he was with. She remembered, too, Mototsune’s principal wife and his second. Two ladies of distinction whom she rarely saw but knew, even from a distance, how deeply they resented her mother for her fecundity and responded by taking away the children to raise as their own. It didn’t matter that she and her siblings were pitched off to various nursemaids and neither the first nor the second were greatly involved in their upbringing. Those servants had been chosen by _them_ and acted under _their_ decisions, not her mother. Her father was a kind man but like all men of his rank and time, he too had submitted to the social convention and allowed it to happen anyway. 

A lifetime ago, she ashamedly had seen the custom as an acceptable practice as did almost every woman she knew. But perhaps she had spent too much time with demons or seen too much of the world outside this isolated archipelago. Now when she thought of how the court and much of the nobility behaved, she viewed them with an alien prejudice and indignation. 

It had been a year and what a difference it had made. 

“If I were to marry,” she said at last, “it would have to be with you. I couldn’t accept anyone else as my husband...or share either. You would have to belong to me as I would to you. I know this isn’t done in where we live but those are the terms that I’d need to even consider and yes, be happy with a marriage.” 

The look he gave her after she said this was….how could she describe it? It was inscrutable and yet—she dared to gaze back a little longer—he seemed as if he had been struck silent by her admission. It occurred to her that perhaps this was the first time he had ever had anyone say something like this to him. 

She smiled in affirmation, not having the faintest idea how bewitchingly pretty she appeared and that when she spoke of what she wanted, his mind had been pitched into euphoria. 

Finally, she heard him speak. 

“Fine. Let’s get married then.” 

A branch must have fallen on her head because she couldn’t think of anything to reply to this. 

The speed and decisiveness to which he announced this decision almost made her knees give out from the shock. Numbly, her mind glitched onto a variety of thoughts that ranged from the sensible to the absurd. Her father hadn’t even been informed. Who was going to tell him? No official courtship letters had been sent but she had already broken so many of the social codes just by remaining here, did it even matter anymore? Was there anyone on her side of the family that would help arrange the wedding banquet? Did the Inu no Taisho even _like_ human food? 

Yet she could not ignore the growing, palpable joy at having received his proposal no matter how direct it was. 

Her happiness must have been apparent because he took her hand and drew her back into his arms. 

“You _are_ my first.” He stated this as though it were as irrefutable as gravity. “You always will be, and if this is what it takes to make you and everyone see that, so be it.” 

She leaned into him, snuggling up as close to the crook of his neck as much as her height would allow, thrilled and at the same time relieved. 

“You’ll have to teach me about how it’s done in your part of the world.” 

“Oh it’s not elaborate,” she reassured him, “we already bypassed the third night so long ago. If I’m remembering this right, I think the only thing that’s obligatory is preparing the rice cakes and sending them to Father but that’s not really much.” 

“Third night?” 

“Well,” she suddenly felt shy again as she tried to explain, “the man sleeps with his intended for three nights but we’ve...you and I have been…” 

She became even more flustered when she saw how he was regarding her now as if she had just given him a monumental challenge that he was only too happy to take on. 

She knew that expression and what it meant. 

They were on the bridgeway built upon the pond that was adjacent to her pavilion. Not that close from her bed but not far either. 

“So,” his arms tightened, causing her chest to push pleasantly against him, “three nights, is it?” 

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He wondered who would believe him if he was to say that the only universe that mattered was between her thighs or inside her mouth. 

It had not taken her long to be able to return favors. Suffice to say, he had already thought her to be a rose amidst briars on this earthly plane. Now, he realized, she was in fact divine. How else could he explain how quickly his mind had been stripped of all command by the touch of her lips or be tempted, _sorely_ tempted, to beg. Him, of all people, begging. For her to take all of him, to cup with her hands, to give him anything, _everything._

Her kisses were not enough. He was panting with desire, bereft of air and all sense of time or space. 

All he cared about was the girl kneeling before him, not as a supplicant, but as the sole mistress of his wants. If she asked him right now to destroy all creation, he would have done it. All she had to do was say the word. 

He taught her well, he grimly realized before he came into her throat and watched the viscous trail of his seed drip from her lips. 

Too well for his own good. 

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By late winter, the western coast was aflame with news of the Inu no Taisho’s latest victory. Shishinki, that self-righteous god of death, had been defeated at last. 

If it had been up to Myōga , there would have been feasting for days and large celebratory parties thrown at the palace. Instead, the Inu no Taisho kept to himself, preferring to stay within his pavilion in the close company of his new mortal bride. 

“I’m glad you’re not seriously hurt.” Izayoi did not hesitate to hide her relief as she bandaged his left hand with clean gauze.

A medicine box was propped next to her as she worked in another dab of some evil-smelling salve into the skin. The efforts were unnecessary; whatever injuries he sustained would heal by morning but he let her continue anyway. These days, she had a renewed fascination in botany and was in an experimental phase, making new health concoctions made from plants she gathered herself. Once, she presented him with a restorative draught, a dreadful thing made of livers and bitter herbs. He drank it of course, not having the heart to burst her bubble. She was very determined to take care of him and her devotion was touching. 

He was grateful that she had raised no further objections to their living arrangements and if she still found it odd to be in close quarters with him, she never said anything. His retainers had done up all the rooms beautifully, refreshing out all the blinds and mats with new ones as well as doubling some of the furniture now that there were two occupants. Their writing desks were placed across from one another, mirrored by identical candle burners and painted screens depicting scenes of phoenixes and dragons scaling flowered skies. They shared a large, raised bed which was curtained off by silken hangings and faced west to deflect the morning sun. Her robes were hung with his, possessions became _theirs_ , and anything he acquired, he readily gave her for keeping. 

His own pavilion was further from the garden that she so loved but had wider windows that opened up to an expansive view of the forests with the cool blue-grey mountains in the distance. Seeing her sitting by the ledge with a book and her gaze out on the cypresses and pines gave him more satisfaction than any picture scroll from the finest painter could have. 

“What are you thinking about?” Izayoi touched his shoulder. 

“Mm.” Gently, he brushed away a strand of hair from her lovely face. 

“The medicine isn’t stinging you, is it?” 

“No.” He smiled indulgently. “I was thinking about what to do with Shishinki’s technique. It’s an unusual thing but...I don’t see much use for it.” 

“It sounded rather frightful from how you described it.” 

“I wouldn’t dream of sending you to Hell.” He kissed her quickly in reassurance before returning to contemplate on his latest bounty. “Maybe I can split Tessaiga and use it’s other half to contain the Meido until I figure out what to do with it.” 

“You can do that?” Izayoi wonderingly asked. 

“My swordsmith can. I should invite him here and ask then. You should meet him.” He grinned. “Since he’s the one who told me about you, you could say he was our matchmaker.” 

“Very well.” She laughingly responded as she finished up his bandage. 

Later, when Tōtōsai accepted the invitation, he also asked if his latest apprentice Kajinbo could accompany him at the visit. Apparently his new student had forged a sword with the Inu no Taisho in mind. 

“I don’t see why not,” the Inu no Taisho said although he was puzzled by what he was going to be offered up. 

On the day of Tōtōsai’s arrival, he first came alone, saying Kajinbo would follow shortly. 

“He’s very proud of it,” Tōtōsai told the Inu no Taisho as they strolled about the palace gardens. “Wouldn’t even let me see the damn thing. He wants it to be a surprise for both of us. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this excited. Of course, it won’t be as great as So’unga,” he threw a backward glance at Izayoi who was trailing behind them by a few paces. 

“I’ve already told you,” the Inu no Taisho warningly reminded him, “it’s off-limits to me.” 

“That’s not what you said a year ago.” Tōtōsai replied in a sly voice. “Of course, I see why you were persuaded. Who knew you’d be a sucker for beauty.” 

“I suppose it's a weakness of mine.” The Inu no Taisho smiled. 

_Weakness?_ Tōtōsai thought it to be an omnious choice of words for a _daiyōkai_ to say. The moment he beheld Izayoi and saw how sweetly she greeted him as though he was some great lord only affirmed what he knew all along. The girl was what had been on the Inu no Taisho’s mind when he had asked for Tessaiga. He suspected it was the same motivation that led to the second request, regardless of what his lordship said of Shishinki’s technique. 

Well, there were worse reasons to craft weapons, the swordsmith jadedly conceded. He knew from long experience that if a sword could be forged with protection in mind, it often yielded a stronger result. 

_She’s certainly much nicer than Sesshomaru’s mother, that’s for sure,_ he concluded to himself before being interrupted by a sudden, intrusive presence of a most evil aura _._

“What on earth….” Tōtōsai peered at the bridgeway ahead to see the familiar outline of his three-eyed bull and Kajinbo, a squat ogre with a shock of jet black hair wearing a distasteful collar of skulls, coming down its pitched steps. Befuddled, he saw that the animal was carrying what looked like an enormous bundle and it smelled powerfully of blood. His apprentice had not come empty-handed either; he had a long clothed object in his arms that was almost as tall as he was. 

“My lord Inu no Taisho.” Kajinbo nearly fell forward to kowtow before the great demon. When he lifted up his head, his hideous mouth broke into a vicious smile before respectfully turning to greet his teacher. “Master Tōtōsai.” 

“Kajinbo, what have you got there?” Tōtōsai sharply asked, his eyes going from the bundle on the bull’s back to the mysterious object his apprentice was holding. 

“My latest work.” Kajinbo breathed, seemingly oblivious to his master’s growing apprehension and the Inu no Taisho’s unease. “I created it expressly for his lordship so that it would match the greatness of his Tessaiga.” 

With a flourish, he swiftly unwrapped the package he held to reveal a longsword crafted in silver and ivory. It’s milk-white blade glowed with an unnatural light like a star with a life of its own. 

“Izayoi, stay back.” The Inu no Taisho threw out a protective arm to keep her behind him. His eyes narrowed at the tidal wave of sinister energy emanating from the sword. 

“By the gods,” Tōtōsai swore aloud, “what terrible miasma! Kajinbo, what is the meaning of this?!” He suddenly turned to Izayoi to reinforce the Inu no Taisho’s warning. “Child, remain where you are. It’s dangerous.” 

“Eh? A human?” It was the first time that the apprentice had noticed the girl’s appearance. He scowled. “What is a _human_ doing here?” 

“You’d better answer my questions first.” Tōtōsai rumbled. “What did you use to make this? Speak!” 

“Blood, of course,” Kajinbo stated as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Blood and bone.” 

“You used humans.” The Inu no Taisho knew the stench of corpses all too well to not recognize it. The flesh was somewhat fresh, which meant they had been killed relatively recently. 

“Yes, my lord.” Kajinbo mistook the remark for praise. “Demons would have been better but I found another way to repurpose humans to create a blade that wouldn’t hold back on violence.” Eagerly, he turned to the bull and undid the fastenings of the bundle on its back. 

Ten frail little bodies dropped unceremoniously at the foot of the bridgeway, scattering blood and torn entrails in their wake. They were all children of various ages but none looked older than twelve. Boys and girls, their forms were emaciated from long-sustained hunger. Clothed in rags, their wrists and ankles bore the markings of restraint, and their faces were frozen in expressions of terror. They had died cruelly and suffered terribly up to their last moment on earth. 

“No…. _no!”_

“Izayoi!” 

Darting past the Inu no Taisho, she scrambled to reach the children and falling to her knees, she seized the closest child and lifted it into her arms. 

“Oh….please no….” Izayoi touched the child’s face with her hand but to her horror, the flesh from its cheek sloughed away with ease to expose the macerated sinew and bone underneath. All the breath went out of her body as she stared at the rotting mass that stained her hands and was dripping onto her silken sleeves.

Within seconds, the Inu no Taisho was at her side and she felt him grab her by the shoulders, forcing her to look at him. 

“There’s nothing you can do.” She heard him say. 

She shook her head vehemently, refusing to let go. 

“Izayoi.” 

“Please bring them back.” She looked at him, eyes brimming with tears. “Please, I beg you. Bring them back. There must be something you can do. _Please._ ” 

He gazed back at her, admonished into silence. In the background he could hear Tōtōsai roaring in outrage at Kajinbo. 

“Ten children? _You killed ten children?!_ ” 

“But Master, look at the result! Look at how beautiful the sword turned out!” 

“ _HAVE YOU GONE MAD?!”_

Slowly, the Inu no Taisho stood up and turned his full wrath on the apprentice swordsmith. 

“Take your filthy creation and go.” The malice in his voice was unmistakable. 

“But my lord—” Kajinbo sputtered at the outright rejection. 

“ _Go._ ” 

Falling to his knees again, Kajinbo retrieved his abominable product with shaky hands and turned back right where he came, leaving behind Tōtōsai’s bull and his master gnashing his teeth in fury. 

“My lord,” Tōtōsai struggled to contain his disgust, “forgive me. I had no idea this was my apprentice’s intention. You can be assured that he will be dismissed from my forge.” He paused to look at Izayoi who was still clinging to the child’s body and felt a pang of pity. “I am sorry for the distress this has caused you, my lady.” 

It took his and the Inu no Taisho’s combined efforts to persuade her to let the corpse go. Pale and trembling, she rose to return to her pavilion and was guided back by her husband. 

“....he was so thin.” Izayoi murmured dazedly as she walked back, clutching onto the Inu no Taisho’s arm. “That little boy....” 

“He was most likely an orphan.” The Inu no Taisho tried to speak as gently as he was able. “There are many of them now.” It would have been easy for Kajinbo to prey upon them but he did not tell her that or the fact the countryside was turning into savage fiefdoms, overrun with bands of criminals. Her upbringing had shielded her much from the unpleasantness and brutality that many experienced. 

“Is this because of the wars you spoke of?” Her eyes were full of hurt. What was it that he had told her when they first met about So’unga? 

_It’s because of the emperor’s failure to govern that so many provinces have fallen into ruin and evil has gone unchecked….that ‘relic’ as you call it is one of the few weapons that can counterbalance the havoc his neglect has caused…._

“If I had given you So’unga, would that boy have survived?” Izayoi whispered. She had refused on principle and believed her course of action to be true. Was she wrong? 

“Don’t blame yourself for that child’s death.” 

“I wish I could have saved him. All of them.” He heard her say softly and when he stopped to hold her close in comfort, all he could gather was the lonely scent of her tears. 

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“I want you to do something for me.” 

The Inu no Taisho’s gaze was elsewhere, going far beyond the mists and volcanic ash that surrounded Tōtōsai’s forge. The offensive presence of Kajinbo had long faded from the grounds, as the swordsmith had promised. The very thought of crossing paths again with that wretch was enough to put him in a low extreme and he knew he would not be as merciful as last time. 

“When you split Tessaiga, go to the south and meet with the guardian there.”

“Phoenix?” Tōtōsai was intrigued. “What for?” 

“Her tears reportedly have resurrective properties. I want you to go in my stead and ask her for them. Use them on the blade of my second sword.” 

“This doesn’t sound like an ordinary weapon you want me to make.” The swordsmith observed. “Swords are meant to cut, kill, defeat, and yes, protect. But not much more.” 

“I want it to be above all that.” The Inu no Taisho thought of Izayoi, kneeling before him with the dead child in her arms and beseeching him in desperation. _Save them,_ she had begged. _Save them._ “I know the Phoenix well. She won’t refuse my request, especially if she understands my intent.” 

“Heh. With the Meido and the guardian’s tears, it’ll have the ability to send opponents into the netherworld or bring them back to life.” Tōtōsai was thoughtful. “A rather celestial sword, isn’t it? Which means it will need an equally celestial name.” 

The Inu no Taisho raised his head, his sight piercing through the clouds to the vast heavens above. A realm he had not seen in a millennia and for every century that passed, he felt further estranged from it as worldly attachments tied him ever closer to earth. The nearest thing he had to divinity these days was when he was with Izayoi and knowing that someday they would come to an end...

He laid a hand on his chest, observing the sudden tightness he felt then recognizing it as _fear_. 

Actual fear. He was surprised he could still feel this emotion and all the more startled it had taken a little human girl to reduce him to this. 

Heaven, indeed, worked in strange, wondrous, and yes, terrible ways. 

“Call it Tenseiga.” 

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A heavy, oppressive silence had fallen on the main house. 

Mototsune sat behind his blinds, well aware of the tension and unease that lay just outside his receiving hall. How many maidservants and guards had gathered to eavesdrop, he wondered. Which one of his retainers was looking through every nook and cranny to catch a glimpse of this exchange? Beyond the haze of his privacy screen, he could see the tall outline of the Inu no Taisho sitting just across him. Cypress chests of considerable size lay in the space between them; gifts that the demon had brought as though they could serve as a bridge to close the gulf that separated them. 

“It wasn’t necessary for you to bring anything, my lord Inu no Taisho,” Mototsune mustered all the dignity he had left to decline as courteously as he could. He knew his household staff would be mightily disappointed but he was determined not to accept what, in his eyes, amounted to blood money. 

“I know the emperor’s regent has made things difficult for you.” He heard the Inu no Taisho say. “My retainers tell me that you were stripped of your rank at court when they learned I married Izayoi.” 

Mototsune could hardly speak out of surprise and deep embarrassment at how informed the demon was. 

“The emperor and his agents have been dishonest with me.” The Inu no Taisho continued. “I was given the understanding that my first payment was sufficient compensation. But the regent sent his men a second time to extort more from me and now they are troubling you too.” 

“I never told the emperor or the regent that my daughter chose to remain with you.” Mototsune was compelled to speak at last. 

“No, I wouldn’t expect you to.” 

Mototsune shifted his position on his cushions, not quite accustomed to talking frankly let alone in close quarters with a demon lord. 

“I am now hearing that the emperor has summoned the guardian of the east to continue to press his suit. The other guardians have been called on as well. In a few weeks, we will meet to resolve this but by then, I want to ensure there are no lingering impediments to my marriage being recognized.” 

The Inu no Taisho’s eyes flitted to Mototsune’s screened, shadowed figure. 

“Your daughter tells me that it’s customary for the bride’s father to send a formal letter of committal. Neither she nor I ever received one from you.” He paused to let the gravity of the offence sink in. “You also chose not to attend the wedding banquet. Nonetheless, I’d prefer that Izayoi has a copy so that the emperor’s agents can never object to its absence or question its validity. She belongs with me now, on earth and in all realms.” 

He saw Mototsune lower his head, not in shame but weary sadness, and hear the man's heart laboriously beating under strain. Motostune’s health was poor, he observed, and likely not to survive by next spring. He felt uneasy. Izayoi loved her father and would undoubtedly be distressed by his death. He did not know how he was going to break this to her. 

“There was another reason as to why I came to see you. I wanted you to hear it directly from me rather than learning it elsewhere.” 

Mototsune inclined his head to indicate he was listening. 

“Izayoi is pregnant.” 

A water droplet could have made more noise than the very air with how quiet everything became. Out of breath, Mototsune had to grasp onto a nearby desk for support as he forced himself to remain sitting upright. Had his son-in-law been an ordinary nobleman, he would have received a flurry of poems lovingly scripted out on beautiful paper announcing the happy news along with tasteful gifts that reflected the sentiments enclosed within. Instead, here he was, sitting in a semi-dark chamber with caskets full of God-knows-what and a beast announcing his daughter’s condition for all the world to know. 

“....congratulations, my lord Inu no Taisho,” Mototsune’s voice was low in shock, “and when is my daughter expecting this wonderful event?” 

“Sometime in late winter. We think he may arrive a little before the new year.” 

Mototsune sat up straighter. “He?” 

“We have a son.” The Inu no Taisho spoke with knowing certainty that Mototsune realized he was speaking the truth. A boy. Izayoi was carrying a boy. And to think, if she had been with the emperor, that child could have been an imperial prince. The loss of that alternate future nearly crippled him with regret. 

“Are my daughter and her child well?” Mototsune couldn't resist asking. "Are they both healthy? Does she need anything?" 

He was startled when he saw the Inu no Taisho unexpectedly smile. “Your concern for her well-being does you much credit, my lord Fujiwara. I’m finding that you and Izayoi share a notable regard for others. I hope my son will be the same.” 

Mototsune bowed his head, unable to respond. 

“I trust however, we will receive your letter well before the baby is born.” 

“I must know,” Mototsune suddenly found the courage to speak up, “how do you intend to provide for my daughter and my grandson?” 

“Neither will want for nothing, I can promise that.” 

“No,” Mototsune dared to contradict him, “you may be the guardian of the west but you have no titles or land holdings. In our world, these are the assets that can make a person and ensure their survival. But you don’t have either.” He lowered his eyes. “For my part, I can only offer this manse and our family name to my daughter and her future children. But she will need more, much more than that. When she was chosen as an imperial consort, especially after not having done any court service, it was an unbelievable stroke of good karma. I sent her off happily like a fool, thinking that she was heading towards a bright future.” 

He sighed, feeling all strength sap out of him when he thought of that autumn day. 

“But then you took her and So’unga. Life became arduous for me, for all of those who love and know her. I wonder, did you really understand what you robbed her of when you abducted her from her carriage?” 

_No, not then._

He hadn't known what to expect that day. When he ambushed the caravan, he thought he would encounter some frightened middle-aged aristocrat who would offer him up the sword out of sheer fright. But instead...

The Inu no Taisho’s mind encircled the past in a swirl of memories. Izayoi, clumsily but bravely, striking a bargain with him. Hearing her play her koto, the halcyon music reaching him from the balcony of her pavilion. Seeing her wear the earrings he gave her for the first time. Feeling her lips on his when they kissed before a sky full of lanterns. Tasting her on his tongue, smelling her wet and tangled hair after a bath. 

Knowing what he did now, he still would have taken her anyway. 

He had once told her she deserved to be happy and had meant it. But maybe, what was closer to the truth was that he wanted her to be happy. _With him._ He really was a self-serving bastard, he cynically judged. 

“I regret nothing.” The Inu no Taisho stated. “Neither does she.” 

For a long time, no one said anything. 

Finally, Mototsune drew a breath and bowed his head once more this time in full acquiescence as though succumbing at last to the weight of this accursed situation. 

“I will do as you ask, my lord.” 

The Inu no Taisho too, lowered his head, then rose to take his leave. There was no need for a farewell for he knew they would meet again. 

But he could not have foreseen, and neither could Mototsune, that the next time they set eyes on each other, one would be dead and the other would be dying.


	7. Out of Darkness, Into Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning/Reality PSA: this chapter explores a darker side to the Inu no Taisho's character and a very questionable scenario where consent is very dubious. Reader, please be advised.

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**Part VII: Out of Darkness, Into Night**

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_Artist Credit: Unknown_

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The sun was not out yet. 

Still in his dressing gown, the Inu no Taisho sat on the ledge of his bedroom window and looked out to a pale, clouded grey sky. The granite-like mountains peaked from the morning mists as did the black pines that had twisted themselves into their rocky crevices. Every so often, a flock of wood pigeons would fly out from their treetop homes as if to test the winds. Beyond this alpine border lay the eastern lands and in a few hours, he would have to meet with its guardian. 

His gaze flickered over to Izayoi’s form on their bed, still wrapped up in blankets and held fast asleep. Her pregnancy was not advanced yet to show visible signs but the changes had begun. She tired easily now and was unwell most of the time so she had taken to staying in bed longer than usual, preferring to sleep off her discomfort. It made him uneasy to see her struggle against malaise on a daily basis. She took it with grace, cheerfully even, but he knew how hard her days had become. She wasn’t a mother yet and she was suffering already.

Quietly, he rose from his place and went over to place a warmer coverlet on her when he saw her stir then sleepily turn to look at him with an almost dreamlike expression. 

“Did I wake you?” He apologetically cupped her cheek with the palm of his hand. 

“No,” Izayoi smiled faintly, “but it looks like you’ve been up for some time.” 

He bent down to kiss her forehead then sat by her bedside. “How do you feel today?” 

“Mm, I could do without the morning sickness,” she said and sincerely hoped she wasn’t going to start the day with yet another vomiting spell. Already, she was running out of ideas from what she could glean from her medical texts. Peppermint tea and candied ginger did little more than keep the nausea at bay but her headaches persisted and she was _so tired._ It was as if she never got enough sleep despite taking extravagantly long naps during the day. She stroked her flat belly, wondering how it would look as the baby got bigger. 

“Are you absolutely sure it’s a boy?” She couldn’t resist asking again.

“The baby’s aura is distinctly masculine. It’s hard to miss it.” He wryly grinned. “Were you hoping for a daughter?” 

“I’m very happy we are having a son,” she was quick to reassure him. When she was first told, she was astounded that he just _knew._ It had taken her time to get used to the idea of having a boy let alone a baby. Lately her mind had been in a jumble, going from what kind of toys to get for her little one to memories of all the games her own brothers used to play when they were young. _Kemari_ had been a great favorite and she warmed at the thought of her son playing ball in the courtyard with his father. She was relieved that the Inu no Taisho was so elated about having a second boy. As he had a grown son of his own, she thought that he was looking forward to the novelty of having a daughter instead. Which is why she was surprised to hear him then say: 

“I’m sure our next one will be a girl.” 

“The next one?” She laughed at his certitude. “Our first hasn’t even been born yet...although I wouldn’t mind having more in the future.” She playfully added. 

He took her hand and linked her fingers with his, observing how generous her reaction was in comparison to the demoness. Everyone had expected a litter of silver sons and golden daughters from him and his first mate; paragons of strength and beauty just like their highborn sires. But all that ever came out of those expectations was one child and no more thereafter. When Sesshomaru was born, his mother made it clear that she had done her duty and would go no further than what was required. 

If there were any regrets on having no more children, the gods had seemingly recompensated them by endowing Sesshomaru with every gift imaginable. In looks, he had inherited much of his mother's icy beauty but that was the extent of resemblance. He was a fine soldier who fought with exemplary skill and any demon would have gladly followed his command. But he was proud. Greedy. The Inu no Taisho had seen the resentment grow in his eldest son’s eyes for every century that passed without material change to his status. There was hunger there too, for territory. For the spoils and glory of war with no regard to its costs. 

A true _daiyōkai..._ and nothing like him. 

“What _would_ our children look like?” Izayoi asked him, drawing him back to the present. 

“I don’t know.” He thought of the few demon-human children he had encountered over his long life. Even from his own tribe, there were hardly any, and their appearances had been so wildly different, it was hard to predict a reliable pattern of phenological features. He had seen eyes of all shades of gold, sometimes violet; a spectrum of color in their hair from pure white to black. 

“I’ve seen some that could pass off as human and others where it was obvious their parent was a demon.” 

“I think it’d be wonderful if our boy had your hair.” She admiringly twirled a few silver strands of his around her finger. 

“We shall see.” He looked down at her body where deep within, his child slept, unaware of what kind of world he was coming into. Whether his son appeared mortal or demon-like would be left to chance and sadly determine how difficult his life could be. _Hanyō._ The word alone invoked such hostility and seemed to guarantee a miserable existence for all those who had to bear it. 

_Not my son,_ the Inu no Taisho felt a surge of protectiveness towards the unborn baby, _my son won’t suffer like them._

“Have you thought of names?” He heard her ask. 

“Not yet,” he admitted. 

“You had better think of some good ones or I _will_ call him Budo.” 

“You wouldn’t dare.” He climbed on top of her, careful to shift his weight away as he leaned down to trail kisses along her neck. “Our son deserves a worthy name, not to be known as ‘Grape.’” 

“But I like grapes.” She teased him as she basked in his attention. “Maybe we should give him one of yours since you have two already.” 

“Mine?” The idea was intriguing. 

“You’ll have to show me how both are written.” She lightly stroked his cheek with her finger. “Inuyasha. Tōga. I wonder which one suits him more.” 

“Why is it that they sound so much nicer when you say them?” He said, quietly enjoying her touch. 

They kissed again and again, drawing closer each time. 

His hand reached down to her inner thigh and feeling encouraged when she didn’t push him away, he let his robe slide off. His muscled back went taut as he knelt between her legs and leant on his forearms. Determined not to break away, he licked her lower lip before his tongue slid into her inviting mouth. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around him and sighed onto his shoulder when she felt him harden against her body. 

He was so warm, his mouth full of heat, and she could feel his hand pulling down her nightgown—

“Gooooood moooooorning!” Myōga sang at the top of his lungs. 

Izayoi braced herself on the bed as her husband nearly collapsed on top of her from shock. Uncharacteristically clumsy, he scrambled to find his dressing gown while she yanked the blankets all the way up to her chin. 

“Eh?” Myōga looked utterly bewildered, not realizing until the last moment what he had walked into. The little entourage of radish sprites that had scuttled in with the breakfast tray were also confused as to why they were not allowed further into the bedchamber.

“ _Myōga._ ” The Inu no Taisho glared at him in deep irritation as he threw his robe back on, causing the flea demon to blanch in fear. The radishes, too, trembled and started to back away. 

“I—forgive me, your lordship—I thought you’d be hungry—” Myōga sputtered as he shrank even further under the Inu no Taisho’s fearsome eye. 

“Thank you.” Izayoi interjected to save him. “I’ll share it with him today, there’s no need to bring a separate set.” 

She had never seen Myōga and the sprites run away from the pavilion so fast. It was almost as if they had grown wings of their own. 

“They meant well, darling.” She said, attempting to settle the Inu no Taisho down but he looked so put out that she had to stifle a laugh. 

“That stupid insect,” he groused. 

“I think you’re being quite harsh. Myōga only wants to look after you.” 

“What he really wants to look after are beautiful women.” He scoffed, still annoyed. “Bringing breakfast that early was just an excuse to see you undressed.” 

“You make him sound dishonorable.” She couldn't believe Myōga was capable of such a thing. True, he was a total sycophant when it came to the Inu no Taisho and in his eyes his master could do no wrong. But she knew it stemmed from real admiration and loyalty; for that alone, she found it hard to think ill of him. 

“Well he likes you more than me.” The Inu no Taisho said. “Apart from my blood, anyway.” 

“Are you jealous?” She placed a placating kiss on his lips. Tying a sash around her nightgown, she rose from bed and went over to pick up the tray the sprites had left on the floor. “Here, won’t you sit down and eat?” 

It took a long while before he was able to relax again and by that time, they had split their breakfast in companionable silence. The sky had lightened to a pearly white as the sun rose higher, brightening their room with soft light. Quietly, she poured out a serving of hibiscus tea for him, admiring the contrasting effect of the deep red color against the white porcelain of the cup. She had just handed it to him when she heard: 

“I need you to remain at our pavilion today.”

She paused, tapping the lid back on the kettle as she set it down. “...it’s today?” 

“They’ll be here by noon.” He knowingly replied. “It’s best you’re not seen. I’ll have guards posted outside.” He saw that she was now gazing at the floor with unusual concentration. “Please don’t fight me on this.” 

“I won’t.” She looked up at him. “I just wish…” 

“This was my doing, not yours.” He knew what she was going to say. “I provoked the emperor first and he's only doing this to get back at me. Don’t take on the sins of others.” 

“ _I_ was the one who refused him.” 

“I won’t let you pay a price for that.” He took her hand to press a kiss on it before letting go. “You don’t deserve to be punished.” 

“Neither do you.” 

“They can’t harm me.” He smiled to assuage her fears. “Just promise you’ll stay here and not venture out. I would’ve sent you home but I was concerned about what kind of reception you’d get if you returned.” 

“I know.” She said gently. Weeks before, she had received her father’s letter of commitment but she knew it had not been given voluntarily or with felicitatious regards. His distinctive calligraphy had been reduced to watery strokes upon the parchment. He was not angry with her, she perceived, but there was a profound sense of disappointment and loss reflected in his words. In spite of herself, she was hurt by it but not surprised. The reaction would surely get worse when he found out what she did apart from marrying a demon and bearing its child.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to give you.” 

“A gift?” The Inu no Taisho’s interest was piqued. “What did I do to deserve…” 

His voice died in his throat. 

Stunned, he stared at the longsword Izayoi held in both of her hands. It lay across her white silken sleeves like a single, nefarious streak of ink that seemed to bleed ominous energy. 

Quietly she offered it to him, scabbard and all. 

He was taken aback when he realized there was no trace of a barrier on it and when he took the longsword, he unsheathed it to confirm his suspicion. The blade slipped out with ease and shone silver with a sinister light from what was left of the morning sun. Compared to Tessaiga, it was startlingly light. The tang was symmetric to the blade’s full width allowing for better leverage in force. Here was a weapon that could perfectly move with its bearer and strike with precision. He could sense the ghost of the tortured dragon spirit that lay embedded in its core, dormant for now but ready to hit at the slightest opportunity. 

“I broke the seal a few days ago.” Izayoi confessed. 

“How could you do something so—” he was suddenly moved to anger by what he mistook for recklessness. It was unfathomable that she would put herself and their baby at risk by possible exposure to potent, demonic aura. He wondered, then, if this was the underlying reason for why she had been so ill in the past week. 

“The sheath keeps the miasma locked in. I never touched So’unga without it on.” She explained further, hugging herself as if to relax her conscience about the enormity of what she had done. “I’ve been thinking about what you said to me about this sword and why you wanted it.” 

She thought of the children’s corpses and their eyeless gazes. At her request, they had been buried in one of the palace gardens near a peaceful grove of maple trees. A simple stone memorial had been erected and she often went there to leave flowers by the base. Enough time had passed that there was grass on the mound now and had it not been for the grave marker, no one would have ever known that the bones of ten children rested beneath the trees. 

“I’m not strong as you, obviously,” she observed, “I couldn’t wield this thing even if I wanted to or was able. Weak as I am, I ended up being it’s custodian. My only responsibility was to keep it locked and turned over to its rightful owner. But what purpose is there if it’s unusable and the person who it was supposed to go to was actually someone else? Someone who had more courage and heart than an emperor.” 

She gave him a meaningful look. 

“Even if this was forged in corruption, I think your will is formidable enough to overcome its deficits. It’s a hellish thing, you were right about that. But if it could be used for good…and I _know_ you would only use it for that....” 

“You didn’t have to do this.” He reached for her hand. How small and soft it seemed compared to his own. To think that this mortal limb had unleashed a sword of conquest was a contradiction of fate that he would never understand. 

“I don’t want you to lose anything or to anyone because of me. It’s not worth it.” 

“You seriously don’t think I’d allow the dragon to take you, do you?” He looked at her and saw her gazing back with an almost pained expression. A cold ripple passed between them as he came upon the other reason for why she had chosen _now_ to give him this. 

It couldn’t be.

_She wouldn’t._

He sheathed So’unga shut. 

“ _No._ ” He seized her arms, forcing her to face him and _make_ her understand this was not a negotiation. “I don’t care what they do but I won’t let them have you.” 

At his words, her hands slid onto his chest. Her eyes were anywhere but on his but she did not push him away. Instead, her fingers closed over the front of his robes as if she was trying to grasp onto his very heart when there was no need. She already had a hold on it from the moment their gazes had met on that autumn day. He could hear the pace of her breathing but her thoughts? They were lost to him behind those dark eyes which now looked up at him with worry. 

Slowly, carefully, he relaxed his hold and straightened himself, prompting her grip to loosen. 

Not today. 

He could not afford to lose control today of all days. 

“We’ll discuss this later.” He turned to go, sword still in his grip. If she wanted this to be the bargaining chip, fine, he’d play it her way. But if she still thought offering herself up was the endgame…

His hand tightened into a fist. He thought she understood. 

Ryūkotsusei wasn’t interested in righting a wrong. Even if the emperor really wanted her back, the dragon would kill her anyway. 

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The afternoon passed by painfully, slowly. 

Izayoi could hardly stand to watch the sands continue to drain into the bulb of the hourglass. Feeling sick and still brooding over how badly her conversation with the Inu no Taisho had gone, she decided to take a nap regardless of the fact it was still light outside. The calm silence of the pavilion remained unbroken and if there really were guards circling its perimeters, she hardly noticed them. 

She must not have dozed off for very long or so she thought because when she opened her eyes, she could still see the faint, white lines of sunlight flickering through the blinds. That’s when she heard it. 

A cold, unfamiliar voice disrupting the tranquility of her bedroom. 

“Get up.” 

Startled, Izayoi sat up to see a pair of menacing-looking sentinels standing right by her bed. Even in the shadows, the plates of their armor gleamed ominously and the tips of their halberds were pointed right at her person. When she discerned their faces, she couldn’t recognize them let alone distinguish them from the regular palace guards. But their uniforms were of an entirely different style and color; she could also see wisps of white hair peeking out from their ornate, silvered helmets and faint, violet crescents affixed upon their foreheads. 

Seeing their marks, she realized almost at once that they must have been kinsmen to the demoness. But why were they here? Was the demoness at the palace? The Inu no Taisho hadn’t said anything about her arrival. She was dumbfounded by their appearance and couldn't figure out what on earth caused this intrusion. 

“I said, _get up_!” One of them threw off her blankets and grabbed her by the wrist, practically dragging her to the edge of the mattress. 

“Get yourself dressed.” The other commanded in the same, rough manner. 

“Who are you?” She demanded, resisting as much as she was able but the sentinel’s grip was too strong. 

“Get out of bed.” The sentinel ordered in the same tone as he would to a servant. “You’re wanted at the conclave.” 

Izayoi could only gaze back at them in horrified disbelief. All the while, her mind kept repeating the Inu no Taisho’s words over and over again like an alarm bell. _Do not leave the pavilion. Do not leave the pavilion. Do not leave the pavilion._

“Let me go. Please.” She tried to reason with them. “This isn’t the understanding I was given from my husband. He told me to wait here.” 

“Plans have changed.” The sentinel and his partner glared at her, not offering up anymore information beyond that. 

“Taking me is going against his wishes.” She hoped this would be enough of a deterrence but the sentinel simply jerked her to her feet and shoved her in the direction of her wardrobe. 

“Dress. _Now._ ” The other sentinel lowered his halberd so that the blade’s sharpest edge veered dangerously close to her stomach. “Or I’ll cut your baby out of you.” 

Shaking, she rummaged through her silks and randomly selected a robe and changed into it. She tried to pin up her hair but her hands were trembling so badly that she gave up and resorted to twisting half of it with some flowery comb she managed to grab out of a jewelry box. She barely had a chance to look in the mirror before the sentinels practically pushed her out of her chambers and made her walk in between them as they exited the Inu no Taisho’s pavilion. 

With every step they took to the main hall, her trepidation grew tenfold. In vain, she tried to look for the palace guards who should have been around or catch the attention of others. When she tried to make a run for it, the sentinels stopped her and threatened that if she made even the slightest hint of distress or tried to escape again, they would not hesitate to skewer her to death. 

By the time they reached their destination, she could barely breathe. She wracked her brain, madly trying to figure out how to get out of this with minimal damage and all the while fearing what the Inu no Taisho was going to do when he saw her. _By the gods, please help me,_ she desperately prayed as one of the sentinels slipped into the antechamber and came back with a jug of osmanthus wine. 

“Take this and go inside.” He shoved it into her hands. “You’re to serve. Start with the phoenix guardian on the left and work your way counterclockwise.” 

When she hesitated, his face broke into a terrorizing snarl, “ _Do as I say or we will kill you.”_

The other, too, pressed the flat edge of a blade against her back in warning. 

Heart racing, she clutched the jug and summoning every ounce of composure left within her, she crossed the threshold. 

The antechamber was dark with much of its splendor shadowed by the setting sun. In a few hundred feet, it gave way to the main receiving hall: a magnificent eleven bay wide area that boasted a series of silver pillars on a white jade platform. On a raised dais was a long ivory table, gilded at the edges with silver filigree work that represented floating stars around a moon. The walls were covered from ceiling to floor with carved gilt screens displaying lunar and lotus motifs. 

Five throne-like chairs had been placed strategically in all cardinal directions. A very fine banquet had been laid out although it looked as though hardly any of the food had been touched by the hall’s occupants. 

The first Izayoi encountered was an extremely tall, elegant woman dressed like an empress. A splendid phoenix headdress crowned her artfully arranged hair and with every turn of her head, strings of topazes and diamonds swayed in motion. Her back was ramrod straight, hardly touching the seat, as she addressed the table in a calm, regnal voice. 

“...still enough time. The emperor is young.” Izayoi heard her say. 

“Agreed. He has ample opportunity to produce an heir. The empress and the other two consorts are all healthy, young women. He has every reason to expect a child from any one of them so I see little justification for a fourth to be added to the ranks.” A handsome man sitting in the northern most place replied. The sea-green sleeves from his robes flowed down his arms like a waterfall as he tented his fingers and looked expectantly to the occupant in the eastern seat. 

There was scornful laughter that followed in the wake of this response. 

“That fat, inbred fuck doesn’t know how to bed women properly. I’d be surprised if he was able to shove anything into any of them.” Someone else said. “Impotent fool.” 

“If you think so poorly of your imperial charge, why advocate for his interests at all?” The phoenix guardian’s eyes flitted over to the speaker. 

“Well, we wouldn’t be here if _yours_ had actually done her duty, would we?” 

“That was ungallant, Ryūkotsusei.” The man in the northern chair reprimanded. 

Izayoi froze. 

Extremely wary, she caught sight of the dragon in his human form. A man as tall as her own husband but where the Inu no Taisho’s beauty was celestial in nature, his was a darker and crueler version of it. Every part of his countenance was highlighted by the sharpest of angles which was hardly softened by his playful, cunning smirk. His black armor was elaborately riddled in designs of silver dragons with garnet eyes and cinched with crimson. An ornate rubied hairpiece pinned his topknot in place while the rest of his black hair fell loose over his back like a long shadow. 

Sitting right across from Ryūkotsusei was none other than the Inu no Taisho, a resplendent figure of white and gold. Beside him was the demoness, dressed in matching colors and cutting an equally luminous profile amidst the palatial splendor. But no amount of finery could mask their contempt as they gazed upon the dragon with minimal tolerance. 

Izayoi hardly had any time to register what to make of this when she heard the demoness gaily remark: “Now, my lord Genbu, I’m sure our guest meant no disrespect. How about a drink to settle down?”

_She knew._

The realization hit Izayoi like a typhoon and she could barely hold it together. She stepped back but she could feel the baleful presence of the sentinels standing right behind her, blocking her path. 

With no choice, she walked into the light. 

Silently, she went to her immediate left where the phoenix guardian sat and filled her enameled cup with wine. She did not dare look up, keeping her line of sight fixed on the task at hand. Even so, she sensed the Inu no Taisho’s gaze following her every move and knew without having to see behind her that he was furious. Coldly, he turned to the demoness who feigned supreme indifference behind her water goblet. 

When she proceeded to Ryūkotsusei’s place and was just about to take his cup, the dragon suddenly grasped her wrist and pulled her close to him. 

“What’s this?” Ryūkotsusei peered into her face before his lips broke into a vicious leer and he burst out laughing. He turned to the Inu no Taisho. “It’s generous of you to display your bride’s charms in such a manner. I didn’t know you had made her into a servant.” 

Still refusing to relinquish his hold, he reached out to twist a few strands of her hair and breathed them in. 

“Spring incarnate.” He commented with a mocking sigh as he let her hair slip between his fingers. “It’s no wonder the imperial family can’t get over losing you.” 

“Release me at once.” Izayoi tried to free herself but to no avail. She could feel the Inu no Taisho’s eyes burning into her back. 

“Rather forceful language you’re using, princess.” The dragon’s gaze never left her.

Princess? She was confused by the sudden, unexpected use of the title.

“You know very well it’s the proper address for consorts like yourself, _Your Highness._ ” He emphasized the last bit, noting her reaction. “Regardless of the circumstances, you were promised to the emperor and in his eyes, you still are. You belong to the nine-fold palace, not in the west or to its guardian.” His eyes flickered over to the Inu no Taisho then turned back to Izayoi. “I’ve come to take you to your new home.” 

Izayoi dug her nails into his hand but he still would not let go. “I love and married another. My place is here now and if His Majesty can find it in him to accept that, I want to remain with my husband.” 

“Whatever he’s offered you, it pales in comparison to a crown and the honor of being the mother of a future emperor.” Ryūkotsusei leaned in. “Did you know, Highness, that right before you walked in, your dog put up four hundred thousand gold pieces so the emperor would stop vying for your hand? Four hundred thousand. For you. Do you think you’re worth that much?” 

He smiled when he saw her bewilderment and distress. 

“But the emperor and I don’t like to lose. We covet. Badly. These days, it’s for a child. We were given three consorts yet not a single one has produced anything. Then we hear that you, our fourth, already have a ripe belly on you. A tried and tested womb that we now know is more than capable.” Ryūkotsusei knowingly grinned. He cupped her chin, his thumb tracing her jawline as he read her countenance with unblinking studiousness. “But you look unwell, my dear consort. Has my fellow guardian not looked after you as I’d hoped? Carrying a _hanyō_ can be very taxing on the mother, especially if she is mortal.” 

Reflexively, she jerked away but not before he managed to let go of her wrist and slide his other hand along her inner thigh. 

The table exploded with the sounds of chairs being pushed aside as the other guardians rose up from their places in indignation and there was a great cracking noise when the Inu no Taisho slammed his fist on the table’s surface. Only the demoness and the dragon remained seated as they were, the former observing with detached amusement and the latter thoroughly enjoying himself. 

Izayoi moved to strike Ryūkotsusei across the face with her free hand but he caught it with ease and the more she struggled, the deeper his fingers went until they went right past her skirts and undergarments to meet skin and flesh. 

He dug in. 

Frantic, she violently pushed herself away from him as he laughed and allowed her to escape but not before flashing her a victorious smile. 

“Mm,” Ryūkotsusei languidly slipped his fingers in and then out of his mouth. “You really do have the best taste in women, my lord Inu no Taisho.”

“Enough!” The phoenix guardian’s voice was brittle. “You insult our host.” 

“The very same one who insulted _me_.” Ryūkotsusei’s eyes narrowed. “I wonder why you’re not as outraged as I am but you’ve never sided with me as you should. It doesn’t matter. Whether you like it or not, I am in the right—” 

Ryūkotsusei erupted into a roar of pain as Tessaiga swung out of nowhere and impaled his offending hand straight onto the ivory table, breaking sinew and bone away. Dishes shattered onto the floor as the dragon’s blood spattered across the white-and-silver surface, staining it red. 

Horrified, Izayoi backed away but not before catching a glimpse of the Inu no Taisho. His eyes were glacial. His rage had gone past the point of verbal expression. With deadly deliberation, he dug Tessaiga’s blade in further, ignoring or perhaps even savoring Ryūkotsusei’s curses then cut the dragon’s hand off in a clean stroke. 

The dragon snarled as he clutched the bleeding stump to his chest. “ _You dare—!”_

At once, the tortoise guardian Genbu forcibly pulled the Inu no Taisho back from Ryūkotsusei although he struggled to do so. From looks alone, the guardian of the west was hellbent on murder. 

“You will regret this.” Ryūkotsusei spat. “But of course, I would have expected this kind of impudence from a dog!” 

“Your indignation is misplaced.” The phoenix’s voice was low, trying not to add anymore fuel to the fire that was blazing between him and the Inu no Taisho.

“ _Misplaced_ ?” Ryūkotsusei was incredulous as he rose up to his full height. “You and Genbu constantly harp about ‘honoring the mandates of heaven’ and ‘ securing the peace of your realms’ when _that animal—_ ” he lashed out in the Inu no Taisho’s direction. “ _—_ insults the imperial house and goes about taking what isn’t his!” 

He kicked his chair aside. 

“You were meant to _guard_ the West, not rule it,” Ryūkotsusei ‘s teeth bared. “First, you steal So’unga and the emperor’s latest concubine. Then you lay claim to half the coastline and call yourself a king? Your arrogance knows no bounds, Tōga.” 

“I act where others have been unable.” There was iron and steel in the Inu no Taisho’s rebuke which none in the room could have failed to miss. “Which neither you nor him have done for years.” 

“Spare me your noble excuses.” Blood was pooling at Ryūkotsusei’s feet but the intensity of the injury only served to heighten his wrath. 

“If you want a war, _I welcome it._ ” He hissed. “Congratulations, my lord. It seems we’ll have a bloodbath on your part of the isles and I could think of no better way to celebrate the impending birth of your half-breed heir.” 

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The Inu no Taisho and his demoness stood amidst the wreckage of the hall, silently bearing witness to the destruction that had been left behind. Smashed china, cut glass, broken pieces of enamel, ivory, silver. Wealth and beauty destroyed into a meaningless heap of rubbish. Not unlike the phoenix and tortoise’s plans for reconciliation. Or the dog’s offers to barter for that matter. 

And the blood, there was so much of the dragon’s blood. 

It was splashed against the pillars and all over the walls. The others were long gone yet it was as if Ryūkotsusei was still here. The dragon’s filth was omnipresent. 

The demoness stepped away from the worst of the spill, pursing her lips in disgust. The hems of her dress skimmed the marble floor as she pulled the skirt up to keep it from the debris. _A terrible waste of food,_ she thought as she took in the full scope of the aftermath. 

It had taken the combined efforts of Genbu and Hakuo to subdue the Inu no Taisho, allowing barely enough time for Ryūkotsusei to return east. It was a great pity that she herself was prevented from striking a killing blow to the dragon but rules were rules. A conclave of the four guardians was one of those raririties that enacted a strange magic where none were allowed to mortally harm one another. But what had been meant to be a vanguard had only heightened tensions among the four as disagreements arose. No one, especially the demoness, ever forgot that there was no restriction that prevented a guardian from individually fighting with the others, even killing them. 

A fact that she hoped the Inu no Taisho had not forgotten either. 

“You wanted me to fight him.” The demoness heard him say. 

She raised a brow, admiring his restraint. His voice was cold but calm and collected. It gave her the mistaken impression that he was open to reason. 

“The dragon is our common enemy or have you forgotten? It’s time to put a stop to his pesky skirmishes upon my territory and your own. We must get rid of him once and for all. This business with the emperor has given us that opportunity.” 

“You’d have me risk lives, both human and demon, just so you can continue living in peace above the clouds?” 

“Isn’t that rich, coming from you.” The demoness levelled her gaze. “You’re the one who’s allowed this conflict to go on and for what? Just so you can roll in the sheets with your mortal?” 

She could tell he was furious now, from the way the pupils of his eyes thinned into slits and how his hands were clenched into fists. 

“Is that why you brought Izayoi?” 

The name fell from his lips and seemed to cast a dark shadow in the great hall. A tense, electrified silence filled the growing chasm between them as they stood apart from one another. 

“You misunderstand my intentions.” 

“ _Then explain._ ” 

“My dear, this isn’t personal. I have nothing against the girl but you are going about this the wrong way. You forget that diplomacy doesn't work in our world.” She was losing her patience fast. “Did you honestly believe that your stolen riches were going to be enough? Ryūkotsusei didn’t come here to bargain. He was looking for any reason to war with you and I knew you weren’t going to rise to the bait unless the girl was involved. A little motivation was all you needed.” 

The battered blade of Tessaiga suddenly met her cheek as he swiftly drew it against her neck. 

“Do I seem motivated now?” He was murderous. 

“Look at you,” the demoness barely flinched as they regarded each other, “is this the best that the guardian of the west can do after a dragon spits in his face?” 

_“You brought her to him.”_ She could feel Tessaiga pressing into her skin and barely make out her distorted reflection on the metal. 

“Don’t blame me because you were too slow.” 

“I could kill you for this.” 

“Try.” The demoness dared him. She waited for a blow, acutely feeling his smoldering rage like smoke curling from the embers of a fire. 

She waited. 

And waited. 

And waited. 

“Are you hesitating because you think this makes you merciful?” She scathingly threw at him. “You’re no _knight_ . You’re a demon lord! You hunt, fight, fuck, and kill. You’re a creature of hell and that’s all you’re ever going to be. You have no soul apart from those you consume. It doesn’t matter how many people you save or how deeply devoted you are to that _child._ You’re just a beast like me so stop pretending to be the saint that you know you’re not—!” 

She shouted in his face even as Tessaiga drew deeper into her neck. Her golden eyes turned red as her lips split open into an impossibly wide growl as she drew back to strike when she caught nothing but air. 

He was gone. 

To where, she could hardly guess but the absence alone was enough of an answer. She had overreached and he was likely not to forget it. The last time this happened, they had barely been on speaking terms in over two centuries. How many more would have to pass before they’d face each other again, she wondered. 

Massaging her neck where Tessaiga had touched her, she looked about the ruined state of the hall. A small fortune could clean up this mess. A war on the other hand cost armies. The Inu no Taisho’s guardianship was at stake and all he could think about was preserving the little time he had left with his human wife. In all likelihood, the girl was bound to be dead herself in less than ten years time. Even if he succeeded, it would be a short-term gain and nothing more. 

Nothing. All for nothing. 

_For your sake, I hope she’s worth all this,_ the demoness thought as she gazed at the broken glass and marble beneath her feet, _but I doubt it._

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Water dripped from the ends of Izayoi’s hair as she fastidiously dried herself with a towel. Lips trembling, she wiped tears from her eyes with her hands as she continued to work with obsessive determination in cleaning every imaginary speck of dust. Her thighs were blotchy red from harsh scrubbing and her hands had wrinkled from prolonged immersion. She had spent nearly an hour in the bath but she could still feel the ghost of Ryūkotsusei’s touch. 

She could barely remember escaping the main hall or how the phoenix guardian had caught up with her and then kindly escorted her back to her pavilion, holding her steady as they ambled along the courtyard. Hakuo had said something to her, maybe words of comfort or reassurance but it all went over her head. By the time she had finally calmed down, Hakuo was long gone. 

_I forgot to thank her,_ she belatedly realized when she threw on a clean shift. For the thousandth time, her hand went to her stomach, worriedly caressing it back and forth. If something had happened to the baby, she closed her eyes shut in pain, she didn’t know what she would have done. She thought the Inu no Taisho would have returned by now but all their rooms were empty and when she called the sprites, none of them could tell her where he was. 

Nervous, she waited, not knowing that the entire day would be done by the time her husband came home. She paced back and forth from one end to the other, internally debating on what to say when he arrived. Occasionally a painful replay of memories stopped her right in her tracks and when she thought of Ryūkotsusei’s chilling smile as he groped her, she felt sick. 

Princess, he had called her. Yet his conduct was more deserving of the lowliest whore. 

As night deepened with no sign of the Inu no Taisho and the candles had burned to stubs, she finally decided to go to bed. Changing into her nightclothes, she closed the shutters on all the windows then started to snuff out the lights in each chamber one by one. Smoky trails of incense and beeswax followed her as she blew away each flickering flame and blackness encroached her footsteps. 

She was almost at the last taper when she noticed a shadow cross into the bedroom. 

Turning, she found him standing before her in semi-darkness. 

She rushed towards him, her skirts fluttering like white wings as she ran up and seized his hands in alarm. She stared at the ruined palms and stained claws, red-rimmed with bits of skin embedded underneath. Blood continued to trail down his arms and drop to the floor with no sign of stopping. 

“What happened…” Izayoi looked up into the Inu no Taisho’s face and went silent when their eyes locked on one another. She could see nothing but anger. A burning, incandescent anger that glowed with intensity. As her gaze went downward, she was horrified to see that his robes were streaked crimson. 

“I told you to stay away.” 

She froze, stung by his icy tone. 

“What happened to you?” Her own voice sounded shaky and unsure in comparison. 

“Why did you go with those guards?” 

“I didn’t mean...is this their blood?” She looked up at him. “Did you kill them—?” 

His hands suddenly grasped her by the side of her arms. She winced as she felt his claws painfully dig into her sleeves and tried to move away but he wouldn’t let go. 

“ _Did they touch you?_ ” 

“They….threatened to kill me if I didn’t go with them to the main hall.” She confessed. The look on his face was frightening her. A wild savagery was there, something she hadn’t seen before. This had to have been a nightmare. There was no way that the man who had kissed her so sweetly this morning and the one imprisoning her in his hold was the same person. She didn’t want to believe it even though the awful reality was right in front of her. The realization somehow prompted a memory from a long time ago, when he had told her what it really meant to be with a demon. 

“We are possessive.” She remembered him warning her. “We constantly want, not unlike mortals. Whether we love or hate, we give it our all. It’s never done in half-measures.”

“You are describing passion.” She had smilingly remarked then. 

“No,” his eyes were serious, “a demon would not hesitate to kill for something he thinks is his and in that regard, I am no different.” 

“I don’t want it to come to that. Not again, not ever.” 

He had fallen silent and when he spoke again, the absence of guilt was palpable. “It already has and I don’t regret it.” 

Her heart had gripped at that and she felt the same tightness in her chest now as she stared after the Inu no Taisho, fearing the worst. 

_My love, my love, what have you done,_ Izayoi searchingly gazed at him for the answer. 

“Please tell me you didn’t kill them.” She whispered. 

“....after what they did to you, you’d still ask for mercy?” 

“Even I could see they were following orders. They don’t deserve to die, you know that. Please, tell me what happened to you. _Why_ was your son’s mother there?” She didn’t understand any of it but there was no explanation forthcoming. 

“He saw you.” The Inu no Taisho’s eyes blazed. “ _He put his hands on you._ ” 

“I didn’t want—” 

“Why did you let him?” 

The accusation was so unjust that it took her breath away. 

Tears came unbidden to her eyes as a sense of righteous indignation burned within her. How dare he. How dare he accuse her of _welcoming_ that wretched unwanted advance? The dragon was twice her size with a grip like iron and had been fast as a snake. She hadn't stood a chance and fleetingly, she wondered if there _ever_ was a time that the Inu no Taisho had felt weak. Had he ever been overpowered before? Was there not even one moment when he had to struggle to survive? 

_“How could you?”_

The moment the words escaped her lips, he crushed her to him, holding onto her so close she could barely get a breath out. Before she could even register the shock, she felt him roughly mouthing her throat and pushing down the front of her robes to bare her shoulder. 

She flinched when his fangs grazed on her skin and tried to push him away but he suddenly turned her so that her back was to him. His hands possessively slid around her body, nails raking across the fabric of her nightgown until one came to rest on her breast and the other on her belly. 

“Do you know how close you came to killing me today?” He rasped in her ear as he tightened his embrace. “Do you think I’d survive if something happened to you? _To our son?_ ” 

“Then spare yourself! You should have let me go with him!” She lashed out, wracked with guilt for still loving the demon who held her now and unintentionally causing a war that could cost him his life. “I don’t want you to fight him! I don’t want you claiming lands that aren't yours or offering up pirated ransoms for my sake! _Please_ just stop, _please._ ” 

“ _I’m doing all this for you_ .” His voice rose in wrath. “ _For our son!”_

“I never asked you to!” 

“You _are not_ leaving with Ryūkotsusei.” 

“I don’t want you or anyone being harmed because of something I chose.” Her hands shakily rose to clasp onto his as she tried to calm him but it was no use. “You already have two swords of conquest and now you have the third. There’s no need for any of this, you have everything.”

“Everything?” He bitterly repeated. “You really thought So’unga could tip the scales right, didn’t you? That somehow it could balance out losing _you.”_

His hand grasped onto her stomach again where their baby laid deep within. 

“Don’t make me swear to something that you know I won’t be able to honor.” He leaned in close to her ear. “Sacrificing yourself isn’t going to save lives. It’ll destroy only one. _Mine.”_

He clenched her breast as his lips traversed across her temple, pressing a heated kiss on it before he reached for her throat and caught the faintest trace of the dragon's scent. His fury finally broke at that. 

“Is my life worth so little to you that you’d be willing to throw it away? Are you punishing me because I didn’t stop him in time?” He suddenly snarled. “You can be angry, hate me even. I deserve all of it but _not your fear._ Not you, Izayoi.” 

Her robes were falling fast to her side, pooling at her feet in a white puddle with no resistance. 

“What are you doing—?” 

“ _Getting rid of his scent._ ” 

Wordlessly, he grabbed her and hoisted her naked body up in his arms like he had on their wedding night. Not a moment had passed from when he laid her on the bed before he was on top of her, easily pinning her down with minimal effort. His silver hair reflected back what little light there was left as he pressed his mouth into hers in a suffocating kiss. The way his jaw clenched and his tongue forced its way in demonstrated a hunger that was beyond desire. 

She wrenched free from his embrace, gasping, then felt herself being turned over again. Her bare backside lay against his erection and the linen sheets rubbed against her cheek as she twisted around to look at him. All she caught was a glimpse of a sash dropping to the floor and heard his voice overhead, _demanding_ to know where her allegiance lay. 

_Was it with the emperor, all this time?_ His hand gripped her neck as his lips feverishly kissed the small of her back and was enraged to find that he could still smell the dragon on there too. His fingers descended, down and further down…

Immediately her legs snapped close as the memory of the dragon’s hands came back in vivid clarity but he forced them open with his knee. As he bent over her, she grabbed his hand in desperation to try to get him to slow down. She couldn’t see him, only the flickering light of a single candle wavering in the dark. 

“I’m—not—him.” He harshly whispered before he pushed in without warning, his movements slick with his saliva and hot from arousal. 

She sank into the bed, breath hitching from shock and surprise. Seizing onto her hips, his own snapped in and out with little rest in between intervals, sliding fast into brutal motions with beastly determination. She heard his stifled grunts as he moved within her and tried to focus on something so she could endure this but it was no use. She couldn’t get past the sensation of his cock pushing in with unhinged relentlessness. He cupped her breasts as he shoved himself in, every once in a while trailing his tongue down her neck like he always did when they made love. 

But this wasn’t that. 

He was staking a claim. 

He groaned, thrusting in with such vehemence that she felt the weight of his entire body on hers. Winded, she struggled to move when he suddenly withdrew and placed her on her back this time. Looping his arm around her neck to bring her close, he enclosed a fist in her hair and pushed her knees apart. He lowered himself on top of her, barely conscious whether or not she was ready for him. Her cunt was unbelievably warm, by all the gods, it drove him mad. He was determined to let her know that this was his and he would show her why. He panted hard against her neck with every pulse as he held on, wanting only to consume her. Ravage her until he came. His knuckles whitened as his fingers enfolded over hers and his teeth bruised into the hollows of her neck as if to remind her through pain who she was. Who she belonged to. 

She gasped as his body met hers in a hit and writhed from the aftershock. Trembling, her hand rose to touch his cheek. A real demon was with her now. His fury bare for her to see, his face set in a snarl. Where was the person who smiled at her as she pulled at his arm to see the leaves turn color? Who laughed when she almost fell in a snowbank, her hair speckled in white and sleeves wet with ice melting against her skin. That day, he had cloaked her with a robe specially made from the fur of a firerat, the same one that he had used when he first rescued her from the ice so long ago. But the warmth from his gift seemed paltry in comparison to how she felt when he enfolded her in her arms. 

Was this really the same person she had fallen in love with? 

Straining to reach him, she craned her neck so her lips could meet his. She closed her eyes, _willing_ if it were possible for her husband to return. He kissed her back, raw and hungry, but abject of sense. He gripped her shoulders as he kept going, feeling like his heart was about to burst as he pulled back then dying as he pushed in again. 

Biting off the rising groan in his throat, he pressed against her until their hips met skin-to-skin, reveling in her body and his power over it. The world could have burned around him for all he cared. Nothing mattered but _her_ and the child between them. Her blood, his seed. Anything or anyone that threatened to take either way from him would come to know what despair really meant. 

When he came, the darkness surrounding them whitened to a blank. 

He fell onto her, stunned into silence and after a while, numbly remembered where he was. All that he could register was Izayoi’s staid heartbeat and the quiet, dependable sound of her breathing. Her hair was still entwined in his hand and he lifted his head, just a little to glimpse her face. 

“You’re mine.” 

She was turned away, her eyes looking at anywhere but him. The last candle was at its limit, barely keeping the flame from going out by a pool of wax. He reached for her still, unwilling to let her go and guided her cheek towards him until she was facing him at last. 

“You’re mine.” He repeated as his fingers touched her lips and when his gaze met hers, he saw sadness and betrayal. As if she finally understood what it meant to be with a demon, at last. That this was but one of many costs she had to pay to let this love between them exist. It had been a miscalculation on her part but wrought by her naivete in thinking the emperor and dragon would let her go without protest. That _he,_ her husband and the father of their unborn son, could simply acquiesce to their demands. 

She truly would have been happier without him, he realized belatedly when he thought of the night when they were on the rooftop watching a thousand lanterns pass into the night. 

He should have let her go then but didn’t. _Couldn’t._

So, it seemed, the demoness had been right. 

He was no saint after all. 


	8. Chrysanthemums Underneath a Cloudless Sky

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**Part VIII: Chrysanthemums Underneath a Cloudless Sky**

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_Artist Credit: Unknown_

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It was well past dark yet Takemaru remained in the courtyard. In careful deliberation, he swung his sword in practiced strokes along empty air as his line of sight went from the tiled, winged rooftops to the stone pavements. The torches had been left lit for him by the staff who had long gone to bed by now. The only ones who were still awake were the patrol guards beginning their evening shifts and taking up posts along the manse walls. The nightsong of the cicadas creaked and hummed deep into twilight, filling the empty silence as each hour ticked away. 

He slashed into nothing but imagined his blade cut into a face he had grown to loathe. 

Silver hair, golden eyes. Features of that _creature_ who had stolen the woman he loved. 

Or rather, the woman he had _failed._

Furious, Takemaru swiped again as his mind was pulled back into the orbit of that dreadful memory. Last autumn. When the imperial envoy had first arrived and rode back to the nine-fold palace to seal the terms of the marriage between Izayoi and the emperor. Everyone, but him, was thrilled that their young lady had been bestowed this fantastic stroke of fortune. For years he had known that something like this would happen but even that hadn’t stopped him from dreaming. Someday _he_ would have been the one who requested for her hand. That Mototsune would see him not as a ward but a fellow lord. 

Handing Izayoi over to the emperor had cost him his pride. But watching her be taken from him by the Inu no Taisho had destroyed whatever was left of his honor. Only the knowledge that her last wish was for him and his men to stay alive had kept him going. For those three grueling days as he trudged through mud and braved the elements, guiding his wounded troupe back to the coastal mansion, he had to constantly remind himself that _she_ had wanted them to live. Even if he didn’t want to. Even though he knew once they returned, they would never be forgiven for losing their princess-consort. 

They were supposed to have saved her and instead, she had rescued them. 

He should have been grateful for that, like the others were. But all he ever felt was anger and it only intensified with each month that passed with little to no word of Izayoi’s whereabouts. She was out there somewhere, in the western skies, on an unearthly plane where no human could reach. Away from home, from those who loved her. The Inu no Taisho had told him she was safe but he knew that was a lie and whatever letters had passed between her and father were all untrue. Every word on paper had been manipulated out of her under threat, he was sure of it. 

If she said she was happy, he interpreted it as misery. If she said she had chosen to stay, he read that as her being coerced to do so. When Mototsune broke the news to the rest of the household that Izayoi had married and was expecting, he couldn’t believe the lengths that the demon had gone to support such elaborate falsehoods. 

_If you had been married to me, none of this would’ve happened,_ Takemaru thought as he slashed to his right then deftly turned on his heel to strike the left. _You would have been safe at home, by your favorite beach, and if you really are carrying his child, it would’ve been mine. Ours._

He brought down his sword when a hand shot out of nowhere and stopped it midway in its descent.

Immediately, Takemaru stepped back in surprise and almost let go.

A tall, pale man with raven black hair and dressed in princely armor looked down at him from his much greater height. The rubies on his breastplate glinted in the torchlight and Takemaru could barely make out the strange designs of silver dragons on the metal. A traveler’s cloak hid the rest of the stranger’s mysterious garb but the face was left uncovered which now looked upon Takemaru with unblinking familiarity. 

“Takemaru of Setsuna.” Ryūkotsusei addressed. 

Takemaru narrowed his eyes as he wrenched his sword free from the dragon’s grasp and held it in front of him, wary. “....do I know you, demon?” 

“I am the guardian of the east,” Ryūkotsusei levelled his gaze, “and your emperor’s cardinal protector. As you owe your fealty to him, it passes to me as well.” 

But Takemaru remained standing, neither kowtowing or lowering his eyes out of respect. 

“ _Tut, tut,”_ Ryūkotsusei clucked his tongue, _“_ I know you’re not so lowborn that you would forget the proper obsequies I’m owed.” 

“What do you want from me?” 

The dragon raised a brow at how directly Takemaru spoke to him, noticing the purposeful lack of honorifics and deference in his speech. The impertinence was making his remaining hand _itch_ to reach for the soldier’s throat and crush it. But patience, patience...he reminded himself he needed this mortal to live and use his agency. 

“I’m here to give you an opportunity.” 

“Of?” 

“Striking down a common enemy of yours and mine.” Ryūkotsusei said. “The Inu no Taisho took something from me, you see.” He lifted his other arm to show Takemaru the hideous wound and missing hand. “He has done the same to the emperor and to you as well.”

Takemaru was silent but the dragon continued anyway, rightly sensing he had captured his attention in full. 

“Gather all the men still loyal to you and take control over this mansion. I’ll even have the emperor send a garrison as reinforcement if you don’t have enough. Get rid of the lord and use his death to recall the princess to her family home. After I’ve killed the guardian of the west, she will be kept in your safe custody until I bring her back to her rightful place besides the emperor.” His eyes gleamed with malevolent promise. “In exchange for your service, you will be given whatever title and lands you desire. When all is said and done, you’ll be a lord.” 

“I’d never betray Lord Fujiwara like that.” Takemaru was appalled. Angered, he drew himself up for a fight and yet a spark of temptation burst within him like a star. To be named a noble, to have his Izayoi restored to him... 

His sword wavered ever so slightly. 

“You already have.” The dragon said matter-of-factly. “From the moment you laid eyes on his daughter and when you failed to protect her from the Inu no Taisho. Murdering your liege-lord would be no different.” 

“That’s a lie!” 

“Is that what you tell yourself to sleep at night?” 

“His lordship has been good to me.” Takemaru said stiffly. 

Twenty years had passed since he had stepped into this mansion as a frightened boy and begged to be placed into Mototsune’s service. He was no commoner; his family was of mercantile stock but he was penniless and without prospect. If not for his lord’s generosity, he would have never been able to establish any kind of career at all. Being a military captain was not prestigious and he could never go to court but he now had the means to provide for himself. For every battle won, he knew it brought him closer to the chance at being named a provincial official, perhaps even governor. 

It wouldn’t be enough though. Not to secure Izayoi’s hand in marriage and her lord father’s approval. The reality made him feel like that powerless child again walking up to the manse’s gates with nothing. Not the man he was or wished to be. 

“Your master is dying anyway. You’d only be expediting the inevitable.” Ryūkotsusei was getting bored by Takemaru’s feeble pretence of virtue. “My plan is the best way to get the princess-consort out of the Inu no Taisho’s hands. If she leaves by her own accord, he won’t suspect a thing. Don’t you want her back, Takemaru? Safe and unharmed?” 

“Of course I want her back!” Takemaru burst out. 

“Then you should have no objection to what I’m proposing.” Ryūkotsusei said smoothly. “You would only have to protect her and surely, you wouldn’t fail at that like you did last time.” He menacingly grinned. “Come now, boy, I am giving you a second chance to redeem yourself. Am I not the answer to your prayers?” 

“What if I refuse?” Takemaru kept his sword steady, never taking his eyes away from the dragon. 

Ryūkotsusei’s smile was terrifying. “I can feel your want for vengeance. You’ve been _longing_ for a chance to set things right, to rescue your princess and be seen as the savior you so wish to be. Imagine what kind of reception you’d get from the emperor for saving the most beautiful woman in the kingdom. The poets would laud you, Takemaru of Setsuna, as the hero of the age.” 

Takemaru’s hands clenched on the grip of his sword. 

“There are many benefits in this for you, captain. Do not take too long in deciding and once you do, send word to the emperor’s regent. The palace will know how to find me as I know where to find _you_.” The dragon swiftly turned on his heel to go but not before he heard Takemaru shout behind him. 

“Stop!” 

“I don’t take orders from mortals, Takemaru.” Ryūkotsusei called out, not bothering to look back. “I had better get a favorable response.” 

“Is it true?” Takemaru blurted out. It took all of his battle-tested skill to remain where he was and maintain a fixed expression. He _had_ to know. This might be his only chance. 

“What is?” Ryūkotsusei lazily responded, still walking away. 

“Is the Lady—I mean, Princess—Izayoi—” Takemaru was losing his courage fast. He was afraid of what he was going to hear but forced himself to go on. “Is she carrying the demon’s child?” 

The dragon paused. Slowly, he turned to the side and only his profile was visible to Takemaru. 

“You didn’t know?” He mocked. 

There it was. 

Somewhere deep within his chest, Takemaru felt his heart cave in. The rumors had been true then. A deluge of images ripped from memories, old and new, flooded him. Izayoi, a seven-year old waif playing with her brothers on the beach near their home. How happy she seemed then and how somber she became when only a few months later, he saw her clad in mourning black when her siblings and all of Mototsune’s wives perished in the plague. Izayoi, as a sweet maid of sixteen peeking from her blinds as the sound of her laughter echoed throughout a spring garden. Izayoi, as a woman calling out to him from her carriage as she lifted up the screen and smiled at him as they rode to the capital. 

Whether clerics spoke of celestial maidens to him or his fellow soldiers boasted about the celebrated beauties they had glimpsed in the capital, his only thought was of her and it outshone any comparison from heaven and earth. To realize that the woman of his dreams, who was as lovely and unreachable as the stars, had been raped and subjected to bearing a half-breed bastard was the ultimate indignity. 

A poisonous, sickening madness engulfed him. 

_This,_ he thought, _is hell._

Bile rose in his mouth. 

“Don’t tell me that you’re in love with her too.” Ryūkotsusei laughed, easily noticing Takemaru’s devastation. “That wretched girl has broken so many hearts already. Fear not. It’s only a _hanyō.”_ He said in what almost sounded like a consoling remark. “But if you really take offence to it, I wouldn’t mind if you cut the mongrel out.”

“You’d have me kill her?” Takemaru said slowly, disgusted by the dragon’s callousness. 

“The emperor asked to have her back. He never said anything about her returning _alive.”_ Ryūkotsusei distinguished rather conveniently. “Just get her to come to you first and leave everything to me.” 

“What makes so sure of your victory?” 

The dragon’s dark irises turned scarlet, causing Takemaru to step back. 

“You forget that the heavens are ruled by my kind.” He pointed to the expansive sky above them where all the stars and planets lingered in their nightly orbits. “As earth must submit to their will, it’s only natural that I put down that dog for good.” 

His threat melted into darkness and when Takemaru blinked, he found himself alone once again with nothing but an empty courtyard and a torch burning low into ash. 

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When the demoness received word at her palace that her son was requesting a visit, she immediately turned it down. 

“I am not in a receiving mood.” She airily waved at her messenger when he asked her what response he should relay back. 

Yawning extravagantly, she leaned back in her sumptuous throne as she looked about her impressive but empty balcony. Only her sentinels could be seen walking back and forth from the galleries as they went about their rounds. The purple tiled roofs of her majestic pavilions peaked about the clouds, lending an ethereal effect against the pinkened afternoon skies. A wide marble staircase led up to the main hall with the view immediately opening up to scarlet-pillared bridgeways. 

She sighed, content, as she admired her palace from her vantage point. In her eyes, it would always be superior and far more beautiful than the Inu no Taisho’s which was stuffed with so many gardens that she felt it was more like an overgrown forest than the magnificent seat it ought to have been. Long, long ago, he had once lived with her here but the arrangement did not last. Incredibly, he had told her he felt stifled and found the skies to be a cold, empty place. He was drawn instead to the earth, preferring to roam about its woodlands and walk near the sea. 

As if any of that could possibly compare to the view of the sun cresting on the rosy horizon and watching its rays be cast against the red pillars of her home. She leaned forward to appreciate the scenery when to her dismay, she saw Sesshomaru ascending the steps to where she was and looking more surly than ever. The messenger was nowhere to be seen. 

“I hope you didn’t kill my servant.” She was rather put out. “Good help is so hard to come by.” 

Sesshomaru’s expression hardened. “We need to talk.” 

“Must we? I was hoping to take a bath. Your poor mother often tires easily these days.” She gave a dramatic sigh as she flipped away her sleeves and rested her cheek against her hand like a young girl contemplating some triviality. 

“It’s about Father.” 

_It’s_ always _about your father,_ the demoness brooded in annoyance. It never ceased to amaze her that a child of her own flesh-and-blood could hanker after a parent’s favor like this. 

“He failed to reach an accord with the dragon.” 

“They were never going to agree on anything. Ryūkotsusei only wanted that meeting so he can tell his emperor that he tried to resolve this through diplomatic means. He intended to fight your father all along. Dragons are cunning beasts. That’s why they get away with everything.” She said in a bored voice. 

“So he’s still going to challenge him?” 

The demoness narrowed her eyes, understanding the real question. _Father challenged Ryūkotsusei without my help,_ her son was meaning to ask. It was so obvious that he was offended by his exclusion from the conclave with the other guardians. 

“There’s no need for your involvement. This is your father’s affair.” 

“You mean the woman.” Sesshomaru’s derision was palpable. 

“It is time you show her the respect she is due.” His mother unexpectedly responded, drawing his ire. 

“‘Respect’?” 

“Well, she _is_ his wife, and a princess now.” The demoness pointed out. “That would make her your stepmother—” 

“I refuse to acknowledge that lowly being.” 

“Then be prepared to incur your father’s displeasure because he will never give her up or any of the children she gives him. Drop your insolence, Sesshomaru. It’ll only be to your disadvantage.” 

Sesshomaru’s expression was unreadable. “Why do you advocate for his human? I thought you despised her.” 

At that, the demoness burst out laughing. “That pretty little fool? She’s not troublesome enough to catch my attention like that. I cannot say the same for your father as he thinks the world of her.” 

_But why would he?_ Sesshomaru wanted to ask but couldn’t. His mother however instantly saw the momentary flicker of confusion in his eyes and pounced on it. 

“I wasn’t sold on what your father sees in that child, either. As she can hardly think or fend for herself, I imagined she would make a dreadful companion for him. But I see now that she is exactly the sort of girl your father read about in fairytales and dreamed of rescuing. He’s idealistic like that, you know. Her weakness and hero-worship of him appeals to his chivalry. He thinks it makes him less of a beast.” 

She smiled at how stupid this all sounded and the counterintuveiness. 

“In some strange way, she instigates his better instincts and since he’s been with her, he’s become so acquisitive. So I will give credit where it is due. It’s thanks to her influence that your father is far more ambitious now.” 

Ambitious? No, it wasn’t that. 

He had seen Izayoi from afar before. Once, when she was reading in her garden and the other when the Inu no Taisho was visiting her at her pavilion. What startled him was not the girl’s reputed beauty but his lord father’s demeanor. How relaxed he looked, happy even in her presence. At a point in their conversation, she made some remark and he had laughed, actually laughed, like he was having fun. 

_He’s never been that way with Mother,_ Sesshomaru remembered thinking. But how ignoble it was to think a mortal, centuries younger than his own self, was enthralling his matchless father as if he was no more than a common slave dog longing after its master. 

“Honestly, Sesshomaru, I don’t know why you continue to obsess over this.” His mother frowned in disapproval. “If anything, you should show her some gratitude. I hear she’s made multiple overtures to you and has invited you to visit many times but you always decline.” 

“I have no need for an invitation to see my father’s own home.” Sesshomaru icily responded. 

“Oh, but you might.” The demoness played with the ends of her sash. “Were you under the impression that his palace was going to be yours someday?” 

Sesshomaru narrowed his eyes.

“Hmm. It appears I need to clear up a few misconceptions for you after all.” The demoness changed tack. “You are aware, aren’t you, that your father has no titles or territory to pass down. Powerful as he is, he is only a guardian deity. You may be his eldest son but you won’t get any real inheritances from him.” 

“And to this day, he still has done little to advance my interests.” He turned aside in cold anger. 

“That may change. He is anxious to provide for his little bride and in all likelihood, will leave his palace to her. But it doesn’t mean he has forgotten about you. I believe he’s now hellbent on securing a realm for you and his other son.” The demoness was now admiring her nails, paying him no particular attention. 

“A _hanyō_.” The very notion was offensive. 

“Careful not to use that term in your father’s presence. I don’t think he will forgive that particular lapse.” 

“What makes you think that anything he acquires from this point is going to be passed down to me instead of his mongrel offspring?”

“I had no idea you were so frightened of an unborn child.” The demoness observed. 

“I _will not_ lose to a half-breed.” He lashed out.

“Then if you are so concerned about how you fit into your father’s grand plans, ask him to join his campaigns in the east. Make yourself useful, for once.” She snapped. “He has many battles to win and the last thing he needs is his firstborn whining after scraps.” 

“I already have.” Sesshomaru coldly stated. “He assigned me to guard the palace.” 

“Then why are you complaining?” 

“I should be on the front lines with him.” A muscle was growing on his cheek. “Instead, he sends me away to look after his pregnant bitch.” 

“The palace is his main stronghold.” The demoness’ eyes narrowed, not understanding why he couldn’t see the bigger picture. “His vassals still reside there or did you forget that?” 

“Hōsenki, the oyster-demon, has answered Father’s call and would be better suited to the task so there’s no need for me to be there. I already refused his request. Tomorrow, I go east.” 

“This won’t go down very well with him.” 

“I don’t care what he wants.” Sesshomaru coolly replied. “I’m tired of being relegated elsewhere. I deserve to be by his side, at his command. Not as a nursemaid taking care of all the lesser demons and humans who cling to him for safety.” 

The demoness scoffed aloud. 

“Is that what you thought when your father assigned you to his western palace?” She clucked her tongue. Inwardly, she was grimly disappointed. For years, the Inu no Taisho had warned her about this and told her if Sesshomaru continued to focus solely on power, he’d lose sight of what was important. She had disagreed then, insisting that time would naturally correct their son’s course and there was no need for their direct involvement. 

_I hate it when you’re right, Tōga,_ she was supremely annoyed and the realization that her mate’s instinct had won out over her own was off putting. 

“Protecting lives is not cowardly or weak.” She levelled her gaze at her son. 

“Neither is fighting on the offensive, Mother.” 

“Yes but you’re….shall we say, ‘inexperienced’ in the other. You must learn both.” 

“How is that going to make me stronger?” He testily asked. “I’ve waited long enough, I have to surpass Father.” 

“How, by killing him?” 

By the silence that followed, the demoness deduced the answer straightaway. Of course. How could she not have seen it? The natural instinct for bloodlust had at last extended beyond the battle plain. Father, mother, son. Proximal relationships had no bearing in the demon world, not when it came to achieving supreme conquest and a parent, no less, stood in the way of that. If he went after her first mate, nothing would prevent him from coming after his own mother either. 

An ancient territoriality arose within her. Like clouds dimming the sun, her face stilled into a pale tableau of icy regality that quenched any trace of warmth. Slowly, deliberately, she leaned back into her throne and gazed down at her only son not with motherly affection but that of a queen regarding a subject who had spoken out of turn. 

If Sesshomaru so badly wanted a kingdom for himself, he was welcome to try. 

But, her hands clenched over the armrests of her throne, if he _dared_ to usurp one from his father’s own hard-won efforts or hers, she would be only glad to remind him exactly who was master here. 

“Dearest son,” she coldly smiled, “it’s best not to dwell on your insecurities. You are a _daiyōkai._ Act. Like. One _._ ” 

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_Autumn_

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From the verandah of her pavilion, Izayoi watched the maple leaves flicker on the boughs as they put out their vermillion and orange display against a bright blue sky. Beyond, her eyes met a sea of pearly white buckwheat and chrysanthemums that seemed to ebb and swell with the brisk wind. Not so far away she could hear the waterfall rushing into the lotus pond and quiet into a murmur as the rest trickled down the rocky brooks. The fanned gingko leaves floated atop the water’s surface, collecting into a golden pile among the lily pads. 

Distracted by the fall scenery, she absent-mindedly cradled her heavy belly and felt the baby stir energetically under her touch. 

“Mind the cold.” She heard Hakuo chide. 

Izayoi smiled gratefully in her direction. As her pregnancy advanced, she had been gifted with monthly visits from the phoenix guardian who now monitored her health and the baby’s progress. At first she had been reluctant to take up the guardian’s generous offer, knowing that the Inu no Taisho had been the one who instigated this but because it was not in her nature to be unkind or impetuous, she put aside her feelings and paid Hakuo every kindness. 

In truth, she knew she needed all the help she could get as she was bereft of any woman who could have offered sound maternal advice. Who better than to ask questions to not just any deity guardian but the cardinal protectress of the empress herself? 

“I haven’t been outside in so long, it’s relieving to feel the fresh air.” Izayoi said. “I’d like to take a walk.” 

“As long as you feel up to it.”. The crimson skirts of Hakuo’s dress rustled as she walked over to lay a shawl across her charge’s shoulders. In the afternoon sunlight, the ruby strands of her headdress shone like tiny red stars hung by golden thread. She turned to look beyond the pavilion’s garden where she sensed the Inu no Taisho’s awaiting presence and wondered if this would be a most inopportune moment. 

“Tōga wished to see you today.” Hakuo decided to mention at last. “Perhaps he could join you.” 

The phoenix was dismayed to see how Izayoi’s eyes darken and her hesitation in readily taking up on the suggestion. 

“I don’t think we would enjoy each other’s company very much right now.” Izayoi answered at last. 

Since the conclave, the Inu no Taisho had been absent for weeks on end as he toured the western provinces to raise armies against the dragon’s. When he did come home, the stays were brief but lacked their usual warmth. It seemed almost like a lifetime ago when the circumstances had been different. She used to count every hour until he came back from his journeys and the moment he did, she’d greet him with ecstatic joy, knowing full well how hard he had worked to return as quickly as possible to her. Now, with the real threat of war looming ahead, they hardly saw each other in these past few months. The less time they spent, the more melancholic and lonely she became. It seemed he was still angry about the incident with Ryūkotsusei and she in turn was deeply offended by the perception that the fault lied with her. As her belly swelled and her malaise amplified, she increasingly withdrew to herself, her thoughts lost with the baby inside her. 

The palace staff, too, did not fail to notice the frosty relations between their lord and his lady wife and wondered over the change when only a few months before, they were hardly seen without the other. Even Myōga took it upon himself to try to cheer Izayoi up and explain in areas where he thought his master had neglected to do so. 

“The conclave is for the guardians and their respective mates.” Myōga tried to let her know once, to help clarify her confusion about the demoness’ inclusion. “Lord Genbu’s mate passed away, Hakuo doesn’t have one and neither does Ryūkotsusei, and the demoness is his lordship’s. She has territories in the west and has quarreled with the dragon as well so the meeting did concern her—” 

“But I am Tōga’s wife.” Izayoi interrupted him. 

Myōga was abashed. “Yes, you are, my lady, but….but…” 

“What, Myōga?” Izayoi sadly asked him, already knowing the answer but vainly hoping she would hear something different. 

“You are human.” Myōga said in a dejected voice. “You don’t rule, like the others do.”

“Nor am I powerful.” She added, feeling lower than ever as an old insecurity rose again in her conscience. Being pregnant certainly did not bolster her self-confidence as she felt more encumbered and acutely vulnerable than ever before. 

Summer had been especially challenging. The heat had driven her to sleep with the windows opened wide as possible to catch any hint of cool air. She felt herself become ungainly as her body grew heavy and the slope of her breasts altered. She feasted on pure color in those months, craving the reddest of meats to the whitest of fishes. Persimmons, chestnuts, and satsumas were sent up with her meals in abundance. She could not get enough of purple figs and pale green melons; biting into their sweet, luscious flesh was almost a relieving experience. Her cravings led her across a gamut of fruit but she could not bring herself to consume radishes without retching. 

She spent most of her days in bed, struggling to get up because of splintering headaches or pains in her back. The inordinate amount of rest and food she took in surely would have been enough to restore her full health. Instead, she felt herself growing weaker as time passed but the baby thrived splendidly. It was almost as if he was draining every ounce of energy and nutrition he could get his little hands on from her, testing her body to its limits. But when she saw her belly roll as he moved within her and felt his strong, fluttering kicks, her pains vanished and it seemed to her that all this was worth it. 

When the weather cooled upon the arrival of fall, she became even more listless despite the multitude of tonics that Myōga insisted that she drink and Hakuo’s ministrations. On rare occasions such as today, she was able to get up and go about her day on her own so long as she kept her pace slow. 

“If you send him away, it would distress him.” Hakuo reproached, already fully aware of the tension between Izayoi and the Inu no Taisho. She was not surprised. Anything that involved Ryūkotsusei resulted in discord and the thought of her eastern counterpart put her in a deep chagrin. Neither she nor Genbu had been able to dissuade him or the Inu no Taisho to disengage from impending conflict. Although privately, she felt the latter could have done more to undo some of the damage. 

Where the emperor was concerned, the Inu no Taisho’s accusations were correct. The island’s peace was indeed crumbling and the signs of another era of chaotic infighting were omnipresent. Ryūkotsusei certainly hadn’t helped matters at all on that front and she conceded that the Inu no Taisho had done what he could in his regions to maintain some semblance of order. Taking So’unga had been a major risk but keeping the princess-consort for his own created an entirely new disaster that exacerbated everything else. Hakuo was sure that the Inu no Taisho couldn’t have _not_ known the consequences of allying himself with this particular mortal and it was baffling to her that he still chose to carry on with Izayoi. 

“I’m all right, he doesn’t need to worry,” Izayoi put up great effort to not look as tired as she felt. 

“You are not and he knows it.” 

“But surely I will be well, now that I’m in your care.” Izayoi smiled wanly. 

“You mustn’t be hard on yourself about your limits now. Carrying a new life is difficult on all mothers.” Hakuo thought of all the empresses and consorts who had passed under her long guardianship. There had been so many. Irrespective of their rank, all had been universally brought to their knees to give birth and endure its painful, torrential struggle. No amount of divine comfort seemed to assuage their torment even as they clung to her hand, begging her to save them. Sometimes, it was just too much and they succumbed. 

_This one_ , Hakuo gazed down at the girl before her with a sense of foreboding, _would be no different from the rest._

“I’ll have him accompany you on your walk after I’ve spoken to him. You could get a headstart now if you really want a few minutes alone beforehand.” 

“He may quarrel with me.” Izayoi did not look thrilled at the prospect. 

“You forget that I am also here in the palace and if he so much as raises his voice at you, I can scratch his eyes out.” Hakuo deadpanned. “He knows not to risk an argument with you. It’s bad for the baby.” 

“You’re quite insistent, my lady Hakuo.” 

“Only because I find you rather stubborn about this particular issue. For a princess, anyway." The phoenix mildly remarked as she withdrew. 

“That isn’t my title.” Izayoi tried to correct her but Hakuo merely waved her off. 

“Until the emperor himself formally casts you off, I am afraid it is your title and your court has already acknowledged it. Even the empress.” The phoenix noted as she withdrew from the verandah and started to make her way to the Inu no Taisho. 

She found him in the adjacent gallery, watching Izayoi from afar in the shadows as she stepped away from the verandah and descended the stairs to reach the garden. The sun glinted off his silver hair and cast slants of light on his ivory-gold robes. He wore no armor today but she could see the familiar silhouettes of Tessaiga and Tenseiga at his side. So’unga, strangely, was nowhere on his person and the omission was telling but she had little time to sort out that mystery. 

“It’s rather pitiful to see you reduced to this.” Hakuo called him out as she approached. 

Reluctant to take his sight away from Izayoi, he turned to the phoenix and regarded her with a deeply apprehensive look. 

“....how is she?” 

“Better today. Although I think she’d prefer hearing from you directly.” Hakuo pointedly noted. 

When the Inu no Taisho didn’t answer, she sighed in exasperation, causing her headdress and earrings to quiver in motion. Lover’s quarrels, indeed. She would have given all the jewels she owned than to meddle in something like this. But feeling it would be unwise to prod him any further on the state of his domestic affairs, she busied herself momentarily to smooth the front of her elegant gown then clasped her hands together. 

“I must discuss the girl’s health with you.” 

The Inu no Taisho inclined his head to indicate he was listening. 

“Her constitution is weak.” Hakuo knew every word coming out of her mouth was like an onslaught of arrows but she continued anyway. If not now, he would find out soon and it was better that he was prepared for the outcome. 

“The birth is going to be very trying for her.” She looked to see how he was taking this. “It’s likely she won’t survive it and if she does, she’ll only last a few years.” 

A very long, tense silence followed in the wake of this prediction. 

But the effect was immediate. Whatever light was in his eyes went out, leaving them as dark as amber. His jaw was clenched and when he tried to speak, words failed him. She saw both his hands shake as if he had lost control and by the time he was able to steadily meet her gaze at last, his devastation had turned into mute rage. Abruptly he turned his back on her and went to the gallery’s ledge to see Izayoi walking through the chrysanthemums. He watched as she outstretched her hand to touch the tops of the silken blooms and saw her smile as her fingers ran along their golden petals. Her hair flowed loose behind her back as she cradled her stomach and serenely walked among the flowers, happy and content. 

But unaware that in only a few summers, she would be lying on a funeral pyre. 

His hand shot out to support himself against a pillar. 

“She’s only twenty-four years old.” His voice sounded pained and hoarse. 

“In this age, most human women do not get to reach thirty.” She answered. “If she survives bearing this son, she may yet be able to give you more children but I doubt she will live to see any of them grown.” 

_Perhaps the next one will be a girl_. 

That’s what he said, hadn’t he? When he teased Izayoi about having a daughter and they had fallen back into bed, all smiles, utterly secure about their future. The words gnawed at him with haunting clarity. 

How strange that not even half a year before, he had returned upon the heels of victory against Shishinki and Izayoi had told him she was pregnant. The western region had only just begun to enjoy relative peace and his palace was safely secure. With the might of Tessaiga and Tenseiga in his hands, it was as if the world had fallen at his feet. He was confident in his successes, daring to dream beyond them and contemplate a crown for himself, if not for Izayoi. Their children could be titled princes with their mother as queen and he could secure a better legacy for Sesshomaru at last. 

Perhaps his newfound happiness had been a fatal distraction; he had forgotten about how fickle fortune could be. A truly terrible mistress who easily snatched back what she gave. No amount of bargaining could sway her to turn the wheel in one’s favor. 

“I could still bring her back.” The Inu no Taisho suddenly realized aloud and as if to reassure himself, he grasped the hilt of Tenseiga where it rested beside its earthly twin Tessaiga. 

“Only once.” Hakuo said as she regarded him with the very same eyes that had granted the ability to Tenseiga. They were now as dark as a midnight sea. “I warned you about this when I gave you my tears. You may use that sword to resurrect whom you wish but it will never give you the power to reverse a human’s mortality. Did you think of yourself as a god now, Tōga? Perhaps Ryūkotsusei was right about you.” 

“But she’s barely started her life.” He mistook her cold observation for a kind of finality and that nothing could be done to alter this course. 

“You could say the same for any human who has passed before her time.” Hakuo said. “Do you know how many beseeched me to save them when I couldn’t? Such is the precariousness of their existence.” 

“ _She has to live!_ ” His voice rose in sudden violence. 

In the distance, Izayoi looked up in alarm as she heard the Inu no Taisho’s shout. She caught sight of his figure and that of Hakuo’s as they stood in one of the galleries. In trepidation, she retreated further into maple grove. 

Enraged, he slammed both of his hands down on the railing of the bridge, nearly tearing the wood apart. If Izayoi was to die... 

He closed his eyes as an acute, foreign fear widened its jaws around him. Involuntarily, he clutched at his chest as his heart felt weighed down by the knowledge that the woman he loved was already walking to an early grave. You could prepare yourself to face a foe in battle but death? How did one fight a faceless enemy whose movements were untraceable and could strike at any moment? Tessaiga could bring down a hundred and Tenseiga could save another hundred but neither could grant irrefutable protection against fate. Not even So’unga’s own monstrous ability to raise souls from hell could match its cruel unpredictability. 

“....did you tell any of this to my wife?” He looked down at the floor beneath him. 

“No.” Hakuo’s gaze flickered over to the garden where she knew Izayoi was. “I wanted to give you the choice of telling her yourself or I could do it for you.” 

“How courteous.” His words were bitter. 

“Your grief is understandable but she is not the first nor will she be the last mortal woman to die young. Whether by hunger, illness, childbirth, or violence, her end is marked like all humankind.” 

He tore himself away and did not even glance at the phoenix or say farewell as he dismissed her. It was a poor reception between one guardian and the other, no less a friend. With consummate grace, Hakuo merely lowered her head and did not press any further, other than to leave a final warning. 

“Let her be aware of what is to come.” The phoenix counselled gently. “As terrible as it is, think of it as an opportunity. There are few in this world who are fortunate to know where their destiny ends and _when_.” 

His claws dug deep into the palms of his hands, breaking the skin and drawing lines of blood into where they cut in. 

But before Hakuo could reply, he swept past her and headed straight for the garden. 

He did not stop until he had reached where Izayoi was, finding her kneeling by the chrysanthemum meadow and plucking off a few stems to gather them into a bouquet. The dying sunlight reddened the outline of her dark hair as she methodically worked, careful to cut only the best stalks. He could see the skirts of her autumnal red and pale golden robes fan out against the grass and flow elegantly around her in a glossy pool. The mere sight of her carrying blooms in varying shades of ochre, gold, and cream was so devastatingly beautiful that nearly all of his anger evaporated. Instead, all that remained was a profound regret that nothing, not even something so lovely as this, lasts forever. 

She did not raise her head at his approach, seemingly preferring to keep her attention elsewhere. 

Yet another uncomfortable silence lapsed between them in which only the sounds of the garden stream and robins calling the close of the afternoon could be heard. At last, feeling the silence oppressively suffocating, the Inu no Taisho chose to go first. 

“I know you’ve been unhappy,” his voice was reduced to a murmur, “and the fault lies with me.” 

Izayoi sadly gazed at the chrysanthemums, unable to deny it. When she finally looked up, her eyes were sorrowful. 

“I _was_ angry.” The Inu no Taisho forced himself to meet her gaze. “At the dragon. With you. But mostly, I was angry at myself for not having gotten there in time to save you from him and preventing Sesshomaru’s mother from playing one of her games. She wanted to provoke me by using you, thinking it was the only way to get my support for a war against Ryūkotsusei.” 

He remembered how furious and incredulous he had been at Izayoi’s attempt at martyrdom. That alone made it strangely easy to blame her for everything that happened afterward. It was folly, he recognized that now, and his own response had been worse than the original sin. He had broken her trust and worse, he had left her feeling ill-used. 

“You were only trying to help me.” Izayoi was struck by how deeply sorry he looked and saw grief reflected in every angle of his beautiful face. “Instead I repaid you in cruelty and for that I’m sorry.” 

As they regarded each other, she thought about all the time that had passed between them in wasted silences and avoidances. She had felt more lonely and isolated in those days than the quiet years she had spent at home. It was one thing to feel alone, another to be frozen out from the person you loved most. 

“I truly believed if I gave myself up and left So’unga with you, it would have stopped all this.” She said at last. “It was a stupid idea, I know. But at the time, I thought it was the only option I had and I didn’t think it through. I didn’t even understand what it would mean for you or for our baby.” 

She touched her side where she could feel their son reflexively turn at the sound of her voice. 

“When you offered yourself up like that,” the Inu no Taisho averted his eyes, “I thought you didn’t care for me as deeply as I thought.”

“ _Why_ would you think such a thing?” She was stunned and hurt by his admission. 

“Because I brought you here against your will. I was….afraid… that there was a part of you that still wanted to escape. That you preferred the life you had left behind instead of the one you have with me. So, when the dragon came, I assumed that was why you were so determined to leave with him." He felt like there was a chain locked around his chest. "I couldn't let you go then. And even now, I still can't. 

His fists were clenched at his sides and it was then that she noticed the trails of blood running slowly down his closed fingers. 

Dropping the bundle of flowers, she got to her feet and reached out for his hand. She gently coaxed his fingers to unfurl, revealing the jagged wounds his claws had made. Making do with the end of her sash, she tried to staunch the cuts with supreme care. 

“You released me, don’t you remember?” she said as she blotted the last spots of blood on his wrist, “and I chose to stay with you.” 

“You must regret it.” 

“I never have.” She raised her face to his. 

“Do you think you could ever forgive me?” He whispered. 

She bent his hand to a gentle close and withdrew momentarily to touch his face but he clasped her wrist first and pulled her close so that her back was to him. Hugging her from behind, his arms snaked around her as his damaged hands came to rest on her belly. She said nothing, accepting his embrace in silence then put her own hands over his so their fingers entwined together and pressed against her taut skin of her middle. 

Together, they stood in embrace, watching the day slip into dusk and the fall colors dim away. 

He kissed the back of her head and breathed her in, closing his eyes in contentment when he felt a gentle thud against his palm. 

They broke into soft laughter as they felt another round of jabs beneath their hands as the baby actively responded to their touch. 

“Our son seems to be having fun today.” The Inu no Taisho remarked. 

“He gets active when you’re close by.” Izayoi smilingly confessed, feeling the baby roll around as if in agreement. She leaned back against him and felt his hands caress the top of her stomach. He watched the ends of her hair spill over her shoulders and heard her relaxed sigh. If only he could have stretched time to make it last just a little longer, just a moment more. 

“I need to talk to you about something.” He said quietly. 

For the rest of the day, they walked through the gardens with their hands clasped together, passing by trees and slowly weaving their way through the many aisles interconnecting them. As he retold her Hakuo’s prediction, she listened intently and seemed to take it all in with remarkable equanamity. Occasionally she asked a question or two to clarify then fell back into thoughtful repose as she processed what apparently lay in store for her. 

“I see,” she replied when all was said and done. “I suspected there was something Lady Hakuo was hiding from me. She did seem more reticent than usual.” She glanced at her husband. “Did she tell you when I’m going to die?”

The question sounded surreal. Neither Izayoi nor the Inu no Taisho could believe what she was asking and what he heard. 

“She believes it will be a few years.” He tightened his fingers around hers then bent down so their foreheads touched. “But I won’t let that happen. I’ll use Tenseiga if I have to and make sure you live a long, healthy life.” 

“You can’t guarantee that.” His determination moved her but she knew there was only so much he could do. 

“You _will_ live,” he said with conviction, “and you _will_ get to see our son grow up.”

“But if I don’t—” 

He stopped her with a kiss and let the terrible request go unsaid because he couldn’t bear it. He would find a way. No matter how futile she thought it was, he could at least try. He owed her that much. His lips withdrew from hers slowly as he stepped back to trace the curve of her cheek with his finger. 

“If I don’t survive,” her gaze never left his, “or if heaven forbid, something happened to you, we need to have a plan for the baby. Where will he live? Who is going to take care of him if we’re both gone?” 

She was right, of course, and he _had_ thought of this although it was happening much more rapidly than anticipated. He already deeded the palace to her and the child, which he intended to be their permanent home. In matters of inheritance, Tessaiga would go to his second son and Tenseiga to Sesshomaru. Neither would get So’unga. It was too dangerous for a half-demon to wield and although Sesshomaru would have been more than capable, he suspected his eldest would use it to wreak hell on earth. 

He had no land holdings yet but once he did, an even split was surely an equitable arrangement that neither of his sons would contest. He had even gone so far as to designate a gravesite where his bones would rest undisturbed; a gift given by his old friend Hōsenki. But the question of who would raise his infant son had remained unanswered because there were no readily available solutions. He knew the baby could not be sent to Izayoi’s relations nor to any of his own kin. Who, then, could be appointed as a trustworthy guardian? 

“I don’t want him to grow up as an orphan.” She was deeply worried. “I don’t want him to be alone, my love.” 

“He won’t.” The Inu no Taisho held her and felt the swell of her belly brush against his body. By heaven and earth, this child and his mother would live. No matter what the cost or whatever limits he had to surpass, he was determined to see that through. 

Even if it meant forfeiting his own life. 

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_Winter_

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The day the Inu no Taisho was to leave for the east was fraught with frantic occupation. 

Demon vassals and those who decided to take up banners for the guardian of the west were gathering at the palace in growing numbers. Preparing themselves for the great battles that lay ahead with the dragon’s own forces, they spent the better part of their days practicing formations or testing out weapons from the armory. Tōtōsai was kept hellishly busy at his forge, producing swords at lightning speeds to equip the Inu no Taisho’s army in time. 

Myōga, too, became overwhelmed on stocking the stores to feed the growing militia including the reinforcements that the tortoise guardian Genbu had sent ahead of his arrival. Since Sesshomaru had refused his father’s express command to guard the palace in the west, Hōsenki took up the post instead. Famed for his impenetrable defenses, the first thing he did when he took up residence was to set up a formidable adamant barrier around the palace grounds. As he was unaccustomed to crowds and preferred to keep away from the rest of the military host, he chose to rest in one of the enormous garden ponds so he could concentrate his energy in retaining the barrier without interruption. 

The main pavilion remained undisturbed despite the hubbub of activity surrounding it and the sprites worked hard to maintain it that way. They all knew the Inu no Taisho’s ailing human wife was close to giving birth and had been expressly ordered to do all they could to keep the pavilion as an oasis of calm. 

The cold months were especially difficult now. Izayoi’s health deteriorated as she struggled with poor sleep and another reversal of appetite. The closest she got to relief was when the Inu no Taisho was home, sleeping with her in their bed. The natural heat of his body seeping into her skin was a welcome balm that seemed to take away whatever ache she had so she could finally rest. They still made love, in spite of her discomfort and now that he was away so often, it had taken on a kind of urgency. She would cling herself to him, ensnaring his lips with hers as he set upon her like a starving animal. Their bodies would collide as they sought to fill their mutual craving, both desperate and hungry for touch, knowing it would be a long time before they saw each other again. 

On the morning of his departure, she awoke lying next to him and naked underneath his furs. The night before had been brutally sweet where she had held him to her breasts and he had left bruised lovebites on her neck. Her hips ached from where his hands had been and she blushed when she belatedly remembered crying out in ecstasy as he had pushed hard against her with his cum slowly running down her thigh. 

It would have been a small miracle if no one had heard _that._

But paradoxically, for the first time in a long while, she felt relaxed and her mind was alert. Slowly turning around from the edge of the bed, she smiled when she saw that he was still sleeping and quietly admired the blankly peaceful look on his face as he rested. Up this close, she noticed how long his lashes were and the straight profile of his nose pressing against the pillow. 

_I hope you take after your father,_ she reached down to touch her pregnant belly. As winter had deepened, the baby was less active than before. She had been alarmed by how quiet his movements had become until Hakuo reassured her that this was normal. He would be a few months old by the time the Inu no Taisho returned and on that front, they had been equally disappointed. They had hoped he would be present for the birth yet when weighed in the balance of things, she could wait, but the dragon could not. 

Gingerly extricating herself from the Inu no Taisho’s arms, she climbed out of bed and started her day so she would have time to formally see him off. She had just changed into her clothes for the morning when she found him awake, sitting by the ledge of their bedroom window with his gaze out to the grey mountains. The blackness of his robe cut a harsh contrast against his fair coloring, making him appear more severe and reserved than usual. 

“You should go back to sleep.” His silver hair flowed over his shoulder as he turned away from the alpine view to look at her instead. Beckoning her to come close, he reached for her and cupped her cheek in the palm of his hand as he studied her face. 

“You’re feverish.” He was disquieted by the flush in her cheek and unnatural glisten in her eyes. 

“It’s nothing.” Izayoi touched his wrist reassuringly. 

“You weren’t like this yesterday.” He felt extremely regretful. The decent thing he could have done was to let her rest but it was their last night together before he went on his campaign and she had asked, or rather, pulled him into an embrace that neither came out of until dawn. It was hard to resist her then even though he should have refused. 

“I’ll be alright and the baby is fine. Surely you can hear him, can’t you?” She took his hand and laid it flat against her middle. 

“But you’re not well.” Anyone could see that. Between whatever care Hakuo was providing and his own ministrations, neither had been sufficient. Izayoi was weakened and a cold chill descended upon his heart as he took in the living proof of the phoenix’s dire prediction. 

“I intend to see you off today.” Izayoi was insistent but he would not hear of it. 

“I’d rather have you stay in the pavilion where it’s warm. It’s too cold outside.” He was kind but firm. 

“Well if it’s only that, you could let me wear your furs again.” Izayoi teased, trying to put him at ease but the concerned look in his eyes remained. She did not know how pale she appeared to him or that he had noticed her heartbeat was strained in the last few weeks as if it was finally exhausted by the effort of caring for two. 

“If I had known you would like them so much, I would have had a robe made out of those for you but the firerat skin is a better armor.” He kissed her hand. She was relieved to see his expression lighten ever so slightly and became happier when he smiled at last. “I have something for you.” 

“Yet another present? Really, you spoil me too much.” She affectionately traced his brow with the side of her thumb. 

“Go look.” 

Gratified, she turned around and spotted a large mahogany box on a nearby table. When she went over and lifted the lid, she was surprised to find an exquisite set of twelve-layer robes nestled among packed cotton. The color combination was wholly unique and one that she did not recognize. There were pink and gold flowers embroidered on a rose-colored jacket. Each progressive layer then alternated between yellows and greens before ending at a pastel blue, recalling an image of cherry blossoms blooming over a springtime sky. 

“How lovely! They look just like the ones I wore at home.” She turned to thank him and as she gave him her enchanting smile, for the briefest moment, she was the healthy maid of twenty-five she ought to have been. 

“I’m afraid I’ve forgotten how to wear these,” she fondly held the fabric between her fingers, “I’ve gotten so used to the continental ones here that I’ll have to relearn how to put on all the layers again. Darling, you mustn't indulge me.” 

“Am I not allowed to be generous to my own wife?” 

“But you gave me so much already for my birthday last autumn.” She recalled the many jewels she had received and didn’t know if one lifetime would be enough to wear them all. “It really is quite a shame we couldn’t celebrate your own,” her tone turned wistful, “I’d have liked to do something for you too.” 

A birthday. Cherished by mortals and completely ignored in the demon world. He remembered how crestfallen she had been when he told her he didn’t have one. If he tried, he wouldn’t remember it as the occasion had never been marked and acknowledged in the way humans did. 

“Why don’t we pick one for me, then?” He suggested as an attempt to placate her. If he could avoid it, he did not want to give her another reason to feel more sad today. 

Sure enough, she brightened at that. “Did you have a particular date in mind? I know summer is your favorite season.” 

“How about the day we met?” 

He could see that she was touched by what he had said and observed a blush creeping along the tops of her cheeks. He thought she would readily agree but she surprised him by saying: “I have a better idea. Why not the night we first kissed?” 

He gazed down at her as his mind went back to that moment. “Very well. We can celebrate it the next time it comes around.” 

“With our son.” A glimpse of her radiance came through like the sun peeking through a forest. 

“With our son.” He repeated like it was a promise. 

They passed their morning in a quiet routine, sharing breakfast together and enjoying the rest of the sunrise on the mountainscape. From the comfort of their bedchamber, they looked out to the snow-capped peaks and held each other in their arms. Only the barest hints of the twisted cypresses could be seen gracing the rocky ridges but the line of forest remained evergreen, still untouched by the first snow. 

“You haven’t even left yet and I miss you so much already.” Izayoi whispered against his chest, wishing with all her might that somehow this day could go on forever.

She felt him kiss the top of her head and his hold tighten around her. 

“Swear to me that no matter what happens, you’ll come back and keep yourself safe.” She took a deep breath as her mind ran through what had to be said and done before his journey began. "You will take So’unga with you, won’t you?” 

“Yes.” He assured. “Let’s hope I won’t need it too often but if I do, I look forward to using it against Ryūkotsusei.”

“Please don’t take any unnecessary risks.” The all too real possibility of a hand-to-hand combat between him and the dragon terrified her. 

“I won’t.” He drew back just enough to look at her. “But only if you do the same.” 

His eyes were serious. 

“If the palace is attacked, I want you to go with Hōsenki. He knows not to leave you and will take you somewhere safe until I return.” His hand went over to her waist. “For both of you.” 

“You must come back to me.” She struggled to put up a brave front. It would not do to cry, she did not want to give him additional cause to worry when she knew how hard this was for him as it was for her. 

“I swear I will.” He flashed her his most winning and confident smile. 

When they kissed goodbye, she felt a part of herself die upon his lips as he tried to somehow summon all the love he held for her in that singular embrace. He took in her scent and memorized the soft contours of her body moulding around him. In those final minutes, she seemed to embody all the loveliness of spring, summer, fall, and winter. 

“ _I love you._ ” Her words carried over to him as softly as a dandelion floret in the wind. “ _I love you.”_

It was late afternoon when he left, armored to the teeth and carrying all three swords of conquest on his person. As he made his way to the main gate where an entourage of lieges awaited him, the other vassals came out and bowed low as he passed them. 

Then just before he departed, he looked in the direction of the main pavilion and glimpsed Izayoi’s lone figure standing in the distance as she watched him go. The horizon bled gold, embracing her in the sun's warm light. Eyes red with tears, she nonetheless brushed them away and willing all the courage she had, she waved to him. 

_I love you._

Pressing his fingers against his lips, he offered one last token of farewell in her direction and turned away. 

A great and terrible howl rose up, echoing throughout the palace, followed by a long shadow that blighted out the sun as the Inu no Taisho’s true form stretched across the heavens. 

She tilted her head up to where he was, observing his ascent above the clouds as he climbed higher and higher into the sky until at long last, his silver outline had all but faded into the white silence of winter. 


	9. Vanished into the Clouds - I

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**Part IX:** **Vanished into the Clouds - I**

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_Artist Credit: Unknown_

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“Are you _trying_ to get our son to hate you?”

From her golden seat, the demoness cast down her withering criticism at the Inu no Taisho who stood in wait at the bottom of the dais. She had not expected this arrival, given how their last conversation went. Had it not been for his message which had been delivered in advance, she would have turned him out. She had discarded his note upon receipt but neither did she write back to tell him to stay away. When her household was informed, all of her guards went on high alert and her six best sentries flanked her sides everywhere she went. Even now in the main courtyard, they held their spears out, wary and watching him for any sign he would attack. 

The tension between their mistress and her first mate was so palpable that the air felt thick and charged with hostility. It was rare for the Inu no Taisho to come to the demoness’ palace and the visits tended to neither last long nor were they cordial. 

“You and I,” his voice was deadly calm, “need to settle all that’s left between us.” 

“I assumed you came here to ask me for reinforcements and instead, all you want to do is talk about Sesshomaru then tell me about his inheritance or rather, lack thereof.” She sounded bored and disappointed. 

The Inu no Taisho climbed up the last remaining steps to her throne, ignoring the sentries’ reactions as they drew in tighter formation around the demoness and stopping until he was just a few feet away from her. 

“Our son is more important.” 

“Is that so?” He could see she was gearing up for a fight. “For once, can you try to imagine how things look in his perspective? You move heaven and earth for your other son—a child who hasn’t even been born yet— but leave Sesshomaru with a pittance. Anyone would be put out by the terms of your arrangement.” 

“I’m trying to do what’s best for him.” 

“By giving your son everything and leaving mine with nothing?” Her eyes were cool. 

“Sesshomaru is a _daiyōkai_.” He drew the line in the sand with precision. “My younger son is different but no less equal. As his father, I have to give him his best chance. He will need every advantage to survive in this world.” 

The demoness gave an incredulous sigh. 

“To think, after all this time, you held yourself above the rest of demon-kind when you are just as cruel.” She shook her head. “I wonder, does your wife even understand the risks her son will endure in housing your blood within mortal flesh? Either he turns into a mindless hound or a defenseless human. I don’t know which is worse.” 

His silence only confirmed what she suspected and she let out a scornful huff. “So, not only did you withhold this information from the girl, you knowingly sired a half-breed onto her anyway, when you were well aware they rarely make it. Dear me, Tōga, even _I_ am not that callous.” 

”I won’t let my child be susceptible to that kind of danger.” His hand went over to grip Tessaiga. “As I protect his mother, I’ve made it so that I can protect him from himself.”

“It was _your decision_ to take up a mortal as your mate.” There was a total lack of sympathy in her reply. Had her nature been more passionate, she would have given voice to frustration and although she never made it explicit, the implication was clear. 

The Inu no Taisho regarded her with the same, intense golden gaze. 

“Izayoi and my son,” he said, “were not a mistake.” 

“Yet look where we are today.” The demoness airily gestured around them. “Your stupid plan to get So’unga and keep the peace in the provinces has been for naught.” 

She leaned back in her chair. 

“Well what is it that you really came here for? I know it wasn’t for the pleasure of my company.” 

The Inu no Taisho then unexpectedly withdrew something from his robes and offered up what looked like an enormous, dazzling jewel set in gold and strung with lustrous pearls the size of quail eggs. From appearance alone, it must have been worth a king’s ransom and at first she thought it was Hōsenki’s work but realized this was something that far surpassed a demon’s skill. 

“A lovely trinket.” Her eyes flickered from it to him. 

“This is the Meido stone.” He told her as she gazed at its dark, entrancing beauty; an entire universe of nebulous stars and planets seemed encased within its depths. “A gateway to the netherworld.” 

Now _that_ was interesting. Leaning a little forward, she gave him her full attention. “Well then, explain. What’s it for?” 

They spoke for a long time as the Inu no Taisho went into detail about the stone’s purpose and to her credit, the demoness listened without interruption. If she was disturbed or felt the need to object, she had nothing and remained uncharacteristically silent long after he finished. 

“You really mean to leave Tenseiga as Sesshomaru’s only birthright after all.” The demoness said at length. There was an odd, closed look on her face. 

“I am giving him the critical lessons he needs to act as a lord, not a tyrant,” the Inu no Taisho was firm in his reasoning. “He thinks he was born to rule but doesn’t know the burden of a crown or what it takes to maintain a throne. If he wants power, he must accept its real purpose: to wield it in the defense of others. To understand that, he has to learn the true weight of life and respect its value. Tenseiga will help him in this regard which is why it has to go to him. 

“You know what he’s been like these days. He cares for nothing worthwhile and thinks he can do it all on his own. But I know he can be better. His potential is far greater than my own when I was his age.” 

“He doesn’t see things that way.” 

“I know.” 

They looked at each other with wordless commiseration, jointly contemplating on how their only child was turning out and wondering what the final result would be. One was fearful, the other exasperated. Neither could deny their regret but it did not mean they loved their son any less for it. Such was the reward and folly of a parent who chose to bestow unconditional attachment to their child. 

“I could have done something.” The Inu no Taisho acknowledged at length. “I saw the signs early on. I should have taken more care and time with him.” 

The demoness shrugged. 

“What’s the point of dredging up the past? We were fighting so many wars then. Neither of us could have spared it.” 

Dimly, she remembered the invasion from the continent when the moth demons were threatening the coasts and the Inu no Taisho had spent nearly all his time defending the archipelago against them while she had remained behind to keep the provinces in check. What followed was decades of strife as the human clans began to fight amongst themselves just as they were doing now. Raising their son had come secondary to duty and it was only now that they were paying the price for the unintended negligence. 

“Well, what’s done is done,” she decided, “if you honestly believe this is the best way for our son to become the _daiyōkai_ that we hoped he would be, I won’t contest your will. I’ll keep the stone in my custody, as you wish.” 

The Inu no Taisho gave a barely perceptible nod in assent. 

“But what about So’unga?” She hadn’t forgotten about the last but greatest of the three. “If you gave that to Sesshomaru with Tenseiga, he might not take your bequeathment as badly.” She suggested. 

“The sword stays with me,” he refused to countenance the idea, “and I intend to have it follow me to my grave.” 

“That won’t stop either son from coveting So’unga so you must have a scheme to prevent both from getting their hands on it.” 

“If I die, it’s to be sealed again and kept permanently hidden. It can’t be returned to the imperial house or be in the custody of mortals again.” 

“Then I take it that you’ve chosen someone reliable for the task?” 

“Saya has agreed to lock the sword into its binding spell.” 

“Saya?” From the look on the demoness’ face, it was clear she disagreed with his selection. “You picked _Saya,_ that lazy little leech, to guard a sword of conquest. Are you insane?” 

“I trust him.” 

“He’s going to fail you.” She pressed. 

“He won’t.” 

The demoness took a deep exhale. It was obvious that he was not going to be swayed from his position no matter how loudly she protested. “Be it on your own head.” She was annoyed but there were other discussions to be had and so she forced herself to switch topics. “Regarding your army, I still think you won’t be able to win without my adding to your numbers. I have forty thousand men, as you know, and I think half would be sufficient in strength if we were to join yours.” 

“I don’t need them.” He knew what she was getting at. “Nor do I need you to join me this time.” 

“That wasn’t a request.” The demoness clenched the armrests of her throne. “Of course, I expect the dragon’s head as repayment. I’d also prefer that my men remain under my command or yours rather than Sesshomaru’s. He tears through soldiers so wastefully in battle; I doubt he cares how hard it is for his dear mother to maintain a sizable army.” 

But the Inu no Taisho turned away from her, his mind going far elsewhere to the battle plains that awaited him. 

“They may not survive if they come with me,” he said at last, “and if I can spare them, if not for your sake, I’d prefer they remain with you.” 

“You’re being overly cautious.” 

“And you are underestimating Ryūkotsusei.” 

“You think he’d dare attack me here?” 

“I wouldn’t put it past him.” The Inu no Taisho’s eyes were cold. This was not his first military conflict but the one that loomed ahead, somehow, promised to be more terrible in scale and magnitude. He knew what real darkness looked like and felt its shadow again when he watched the dragon’s growing army blackening the country fields with their banners as they swept through village after village, bringing fire and death in their wake. The haunting silence of those ruined hamlets was but one of many stark reminders of the collateral damage caused by his fight with Ryūkotsusei. 

But his scouts had learned that the dragon was moving to bigger targets such as demon-held regions whose lords were known to have declared fealty to the guardian of the west. The dragon’s recent hits suggested a more ambitious plan and if that was the case, the Inu no Taisho wanted the demoness prepared. 

“You should stay and defend your home.” 

“ _I_ give commands here, not you.” 

“The dragon will look to hit every target on me, which includes you.” His expression was grave. “I don’t want to give him the opportunity.” 

The demoness looked at him curiously, struck by what _almost_ sounded like a plaintive tone in his ask. The Inu no Taisho, like all their kin, demanded and ordered. Pleas were not an innate part of his vocabulary. It must have meant a great deal to him then for him to make this entreaty and just hearing it alone was strangely compelling. 

Still, she wanted to refuse. She had relished the possible opportunity to fight the dragon herself and punish that misbegotten thing for all the past hostilities he incurred in her lands. So what if it had been a few centuries, she was still smarting over the insult. Hakuo and Genbu had already sided with her first mate so it was only natural that she would contribute to the effort too. 

“Having Sesshomaru with me on the front lines is enough.” The Inu no Taisho seemed to read her thoughts. “His presence alone shows your support and his strength is worth more than half your army.” 

“But I won’t be with either of you.” The demoness levelled her gaze with his.

“You may have your own battles to fight here and if that comes to pass, you can’t come with me.” 

He was right. Again. 

Truly, this was becoming a ridiculous habit and she would have liked nothing more than for it to stop. 

“...fine.” The demoness primly nodded. She did not want to give him the time to feel satisfied that he won her over. “Well then, be on your way.” 

She looked askance and waited for him to turn on his heel. Instead, she saw him take a few steps forward to go up to where she was. Immediately, the sentinels reacted but she held up her hand to indicate they were to remain as they were. They retreated, slowly, and reluctantly allowed the Inu no Taisho to now stand directly in front of her. 

With great care, he took her hand and settled the heavy Medio stone, closing her fingers over its smooth surface with his. 

“Thank you.” 

If she had not seen his lips move, she wouldn’t have believed the words actually came out of his mouth. Then, as if she didn’t have enough surprises for one day, he did not relinquish his hold. 

It felt...she didn’t know what to make of it other than that this sudden show of affection was awkward. His palm was too warm and she disliked the way his claws were grazing at the heel of her wrist. 

“What’s this, Tōga, have you gone soft?” She quietly mocked but he did not react to her in the slightest and it made her uneasy, prompting her to take on a different track. “Well, if you’re in such a sentimental mood perhaps you’ll be more inclined to heed a request of my own: try not to die.” 

“You seem worried.” He smiled and her inquietude only worsened. 

“Don’t be absurd. I don’t want to be a widow, that’s all. I’m far too young to be called a dowager.” 

“I’ll do my best not to disappoint you then.” There was a trace of his sophisticated charm that she remembered from his younger days and it threw her back to a time when she had been a quicksilver slip of a girl first encountering the golden scion that everyone admiringly spoke of. He was not known as the Inu no Taisho then but everything about him alluded to great promise. In those days, the sun seemed to perpetually crown his silver head for every battle he won and he’d raise his fist to the sky to the roaring cheers of his armies. He would smile at them, arrogant and handsome, looking every bit the conqueror they thought he would be. 

But all those hopes were for nothing. 

He never sought dominion over the island or tried to seize the capital, even though everyone knew he was more than capable of doing so. Opportunity after opportunity was eschewed. He did not stay in the heavens where he belonged, preferring the western coasts and it was a long time before he ended up becoming its guardian then settling in his current palace. By then, she as well as the rest of their kin had given up on him. 

All that power and talent, _wasted._ Her clan had been disgusted by his continued refusal to establish an empire for himself and what was unfathomable was that he just didn’t care. 

The demoness pulled her hand away, unable to withstand his touch any longer. 

“I’m not asking for myself.” She replied as she inwardly worked to regain equanimity. “I can survive without you but I cannot say the same for your princess.” 

At her words, his smile vanished. 

“Don’t look at me like that. You know it’s true. When you’re gone, your wife and child will be left entirely at the world’s mercy. Did you ever stop and think about what that means? Who will save them then?” 

All the warmth from earlier had now gone and she was glad to see his glacial demeanor return. There. That was more like the Inu no Taisho that she knew. 

They turned away, not out of aversion, but because it was easier this way than to confront their disappointment in each other outright. If only he had been as passionately determined in pursuing conquest as he was in protecting his mortal wife. If only the demoness could have loved him for who he was, not what she wanted him to become. Had those deficits been bridged by compromise and understanding, they could have been happy. But the Inu no Taisho stubbornly held onto his convictions and she was too proud to make any concessions. Neither believed the other was in the right nor was willing to accommodate which made reconciliation all the more difficult, if not impossible, to achieve. 

Wordlessly, he swept down and the demoness watched his back as he descended the marble stairway, passing into the clouded mists without a trace as he returned to the world below. 

She did not say goodbye. 

And years later, when she would recall this day, all that came up was the image of him whitening out to a blank and an empty regret that she didn’t ensure he would make good on his promise. 

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Somewhere, in a place that heaven and earth met as one, the palace of the west was shadowed away into obscurity. 

Only the most gifted of priests and shrine maidens could have detected the presence of that immense complex and its inhabitants. 

Like some fabled princess of old, Izayoi lay deep within its protective sphere, awaiting a king’s return to break the spell and set her free from its heavy exhaustion. The enchantments within the palace walls kept the worst of the winter cold out, allowing the gardens and forests to last longer than they would have in true nature. But it was not enough to temper the skies’ mercuriality and she watched, with dread, as an unknown darkness spread across the clouds with the war’s progress. 

Now close to birth, she was confined to her bedchamber and no longer had the energy to do much else other than write letters. She heard from her father more regularly although in the last few weeks, the pace of his correspondence slowed due to a worsening of his illness. She worried about him constantly and had sent packets of medicines that she personally prepared to aid in his recovery. 

Messages from the Inu no Taisho were few and far in between but for every one that came, she treasured them and tried not to take the delays to heart, knowing that his time was limited now more than ever. 

He kept her abreast of what was going on his end which she tracked on a map and always asked about her health as well as the baby, ending every note with constant but loving reminders to look after herself. She, in turn, replied back detailing what went on at the palace, counted out all the kicks she felt from their son that day, and all the while implored him to be safe. What she did not tell him was how unwell she was, out of fear that it would burden his already occupied mind. 

Myōga had taken to sitting with her at every meal, checking to see if she finished her tray and would not leave until he was assured she had taken her medicinal tonic for the day. The sprites too increasingly spent more time in her rooms to clean and assist her with daily tasks. Although very grateful, she felt incredibly lazy that she was now needing help with almost everything, even drawing a bath for herself. 

At home, much of her day used to be spent overseeing the household but at the palace, this was handled by the Inu no Taisho’s retainers. She had thus devoted much of her time to personal study, a luxury in of itself, and shifted concentration to the baby’s welfare when she learned she was expecting. But in the back of her mind she was troubled by the fact that she did very little in the way of usefulness and more could be done. Spoiled aristocratic girls like herself were pampered into idleness and now aware of this deficit, she tried to correct it. 

As to the question of where she could apply her energies, she partnered with Myōga in several projects chiefly to do with resource management to support her husband’s military campaigns. She had also opened up the palace as shelter to any demons who were fleeing the region, something that Myōga and Hōsenki initially objected to for safety concerns. They relented only after she had a protracted argument with them and was able to hit on the right point. The move was necessary to prevent further casualties. The Inu no Taisho had warned her that the dragon’s forces were ruthless and were known to hunt down their targets no matter how insignificant they might have been. 

Had she done enough? The question continually bothered her and she never found a satisfactory answer in herself. The doubt only worsened as her health plummeted to an all-time low and she was forced to retreat into her room. At that point, she could not wait for her pregnancy to be over and was really looking forward to holding her little boy in her arms at long last. 

On one rainy morning, she woke up very late, feeling extremely groggy when she felt a sudden spasm deep within her middle that startled her right out of her disorientation. 

For a moment, she panicked, thinking her labor had begun but as soon as the pain came, it went away. 

She waited several minutes, then twenty, finally an hour before she realized that perhaps what she felt was a false start. From her talks with Hakuo and what she had gathered from the library, she understood that this was common as the baby’s arrival date closed in and that the contractions would sustain for long periods of time, increasing in intensity. Assuring herself that what she felt was a momentary lapse, she gradually got out of bed and after getting ready for the day, a turnip sprite brought over her letters. 

Thumbing through each leaflet, she sifted through them first to see if there was anything from the Inu no Taisho when she stumbled across a familiar hand. 

“Takemaru?” She stared at the signature on the page, recognizing his handwriting almost at once. 

It had been two and a half years since she had last seen the young captain, during which time he had never written to her personally. Not once. It wasn’t just propriety that discouraged communication, rather, there had been little need for it. Her father had already told her straight away that Takemaru and the rest of her retinue had made it back safely to the manse with minimal injury, by the grace of the gods. She had wondered about him and as time passed, she expected Mototsune to tell her that he had gotten engaged to some pretty girl or that he had been promoted to a greater position. 

Instead, there was only silence that had blared across the lines and remained uncomfortably empty. 

Until now. 

Curious, she unfolded the letter packet and as soon as her eye came across the first sentence, it was as if she was reading the beginning to her end. 

Not ten minutes had elapsed before Izayoi, stumbling out of her pavilion, rushed to find Hōsenki. 

With great difficulty, she forced herself to make the walk all the way to the eastern side where the largest garden was. In its lake she caught sight of the oyster demon meditating quietly on the water’s surface as he absent-mindedly looked into the distance where the grey mountains lied ahead. The greenish hue of his complexion appeared more blue today than usual, perhaps owing to the hermit having at last found some measure of the solitude he so craved. Had it not been for his long-standing friendship with the Inu no Taisho, he would never have considered residing in a noisy palace even if the arrangement was temporary. 

These days, he was constantly being interrupted and couldn’t remember the last time he had even an hour to himself. There always seemed some mild disaster around the corner and just as he was wondering how the day was going to turn out, he picked up the sound of Izayoi’s footsteps coming towards him. 

Upon her arrival, his enormous coral-horned head immediately swiveled to her direction. 

“Lady princess...” His eyes widened as he rose to greet her. “Does Myōga know you’re here?” He glanced at her and noticed she wasn’t wearing anything suitably warm. Her breathing was visibly strained and the exertion caused by her ambling had done her no good; she looked like she was going to collapse. 

Alarmed, Hōsenki rose from the waters and glided over to the edge. “Whatever is the matter?” 

“I need to leave the palace.” 

There were not many occasions that could render a demon speechless but for Hōsenki, this was surely one of those times. 

“My father is gravely ill.” Her lovely eyes were mournful. “I have to go home. He could be dying and I can’t bear the thought of him being alone. I want to go to him.” She clutched both of her hands as she beseeched the demon. 

“My lady…” 

“Please, I beg you my lord Hōsenki, create an opening in the barrier for me.” 

“I dare not.” The oyster demon tried to be gentle in his refusal, all the while wondering how he could call on Myōga or someone to help the princess. “I was tasked with protecting this place. You, most of all. It was the one thing that the Inu no Taisho was counting on me for.” 

She clutched her belly, wincing. “But my father…”

“Are you all right?” 

“ _Please._ ” She looked up at him imploringly. 

“My lord Inu no Taisho made it clear that I was not to leave the palace unguarded.” 

“You wouldn’t have to escort me or leave the grounds.” Izayoi was saying anything to get him to agree. “I could go on my own or take Myōga with me if I must. My husband knows where my home is, he’s been there several times.” 

She winced again but thinking it was just from her walk earlier, she tried to brush it off. 

“Just give me three days.” 

Her distress was so acute that even Hōsenki could not help but feel a little moved by her plight. If it hadn’t been for the Inu no Taisho’s command, he wouldn’t have hesitated to heed the pleas of such a fair creature, never mind that she was human. But when weighed against everything else that was going on, this request seemed small to him and unlikely to cause harm. Surely, if the Inu no Taisho himself was here, Hōsenki convinced himself that the guardian would have readily agreed. When it came to the princess, it was known there was very little that he refused her on. 

“If I were to let you go,” the demon postulated aloud after some time had passed, “I would need more than your assurances. You would need to write to your lord husband to let him know where you intend to go. I’d also advise that you keep your visit for a day or two instead. The shorter it is, the less likely his lordship will be angry when he learns of it and the better it will be for you, seeing as how your time is approaching.” 

Hearing his words, Izayoi’s spirits lifted as she dared to hope. 

“I doubt Myōga will come along with you as he’s unwilling to leave the barrier himself.” He added on a rather tart note. “That flea is many things but a fighter, he is not.” 

“I understand.” She felt a huge weight lift off her shoulders and were it not for the circumstances, she would have thrown her arms around him in relief. 

“You _must_ return.” Hōsenki’s cat-like eyes burned into her with the stern gravity that only a hermit like himself could have expressed. 

“I will, I’ll do everything you ask,” she said in breathless earnestness, “oh thank you, thank you—!” 

To the demon’s enormous surprise, the girl waded over to where he was, getting the skirts of her robes all wet, then planted a grateful kiss on his hand as she could not reach his cheek from her smaller height. Deeply flattered by this attention, Hōsenki bowed and when he looked up, she was already making her way down the gallery. 

By the time she reached the main pavilion, she was struggling to make it up to the steps without having to stop on occasion and support herself on a pillar. 

With no other thought than getting home as fast as possible, she burst into her rooms and headed straight for her writing desk. Not even bothering to change, she hastily wrote out a letter to the Inu no Taisho and no sooner had the ink dried, she called for one of the sprites to take it for delivery as well as a carriage to be prepared for her departure. Grabbing only a travelling cloak from the wardrobe and forgetting to pack anything else, she swept it over her shoulders then stepped outside. 

When she reached the main courtyard, she felt pains shooting up from her lower back and had to pause midway to catch her breath. Slipping an arm underneath her belly, she was about to cross the threshold of the main gate when she heard Myōga shrilly calling for her. 

“ _My lady, what are you doing?!”_

In great speed, Myōga skittered over to her feet and looked up at her in horrified surprise. 

“I’m going to go home to see my father.” She did not want to lie to him and knew that he would find out soon enough. 

“But—but— _the barrier_ —his lordship—!” Myōga’s face violently twitched as his mind was pulled into a million different directions by this preposterous proposition. 

“I must go.” She made the effort to kneel down to his level in spite of the cold stones and her difficulty of movement. “My father needs me. He is so ill now, I fear the worst and need to be by his side. Please try to understand. I won’t ask you to accompany me,” she mentioned to spare him from having to offer himself, “I’ve already sent a note to my husband and will be back in a day or two. I promise.” 

“But—but—” Myōga was clearly casting about for a compelling reason to make her stay and there were many. He knew the baby’s due date was extremely close and she was getting frailer by the day. The fact that she was even outside, exposed to the cold, was another major cause for concern. The whole thing was just so appallingly wrong that he couldn’t bring himself to speak. 

“I’ll return before you know it.” She tried to smile. 

Wearily, she rose from her place and turned to make for her awaiting transport but the flea proved more recalcitrant than she had given him credit for. She could hear Myōga jump up and down as he bounced after her, frantically trying to get her attention again and repeatedly invoking the Inu no Taisho’s name like a charm to persuade her to stop. 

But she didn’t. 

Instead, she alighted the steps into the phantom carriage and knowing the enchantment was listening for her next order, she told it where her destination was. 

“My lady! My lady, wait, _at least take an escort with you—_!” Myōga was beside himself but she didn’t hear him and to his disbelief, he saw the dark silhouette of Izayoi’s carriage slip away into the sky. 

Helpless, he stared after it in utter desolation then involuntarily shuddered. If and when the Inu no Taisho found out that his heavily pregnant wife had left the palace without even so much as a shawl and no protective guard with her…

He almost fainted on the courtyard by the mere thought of what his master’s reaction would be. 

Now, more than ever, would have been an excellent time to make a run for it and at that moment, he did not care what poor soul would ultimately end up with the dreaded task of informing the Inu no Taisho directly. 

Because—he was quite determined—it wasn’t going to be him. 

He was about to pack off when remorse hit him like a dropped anvil. All at once, he thought of the many kindnesses that the guardian had done for him and was now haunted by his last image of the princess disappearing into the wintry gloom. There were not many things that inspired and held the Inu no Taisho’s singular affection but Izayoi was the exception. Knowing that, Myōga couldn’t help but feel miserably guilty. The very minimum he could do, as a grand counsellor, was attempt to remedy this catastrophe... 

Fearfully, Myōga turned to look at the mountains in the east where he knew the battle with the dragon raged on. And so, what ended up being a pivotal first, he swallowed the enormous panic he felt and reversed course.

  
  


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As the year drew to a final close, the imperial chroniclers noted a rash of calamities that fell across the island from east to west. 

Although the days were shorter, the skies remained perpetually dark and people reported witnessing terrifying lightning storms that were powerful enough to shake the earth. The weather became so cold it was said not even the emperor himself could keep warm in his fine palace. Adding to the general misery was the news that the great four demons were now warring against each other. The phoenix, tortoise, and hound had joined up to counter the dragon in the east, whose armies now roamed throughout the provinces and cut through them like a scythe. Their black banners, emblazoned with the imperial insignia and draconian heraldry, waved in the winds by the thousands like deathly sails. 

Terrified by the rumors that the penultimate battle was to take place in the eastern mountain valleys, all those in the region frantically pushed out for a mass exodus. Even the provincial governors headed straight back to the safety of the capital, abandoning their posts and in effect, leaving their villages leaderless and without any meaningful defenses. 

In whatever direction the Inu no Taisho turned, the air was rank with fear and almost always was preceded by a thin but ever present trail of the dragon’s scent. For every blackened countryside he passed, the more his patience wore down and his anger leveled up to the point that he could no longer speak Ryūkotsusei’s name without cursing it. 

By the time he and his men reached the valley, Sesshomaru and Genbu had already arrived with their battalions. Hakuo was still en route but he knew she and her tribe were close. He had seen her brilliant wings flash in the skies overhead as he headed eastward. 

“Right on time.” Genbu greeted him without preamble as the Inu no Taisho and all the infantry pulled up to the rendezvous point. What little light there was left in the day gleamed green along the tortoise’s iridescent armor and the emerald motifs embedded in the cuirass. His angular face was partially hidden by a finned helmet and as he turned to look across the mountains, it became shadowed with anticipation. 

“How many are there?” The Inu no Taisho asked. 

“Eighty thousand, from what our intelligence could gather. There might be more. We think he split up his army and broke out a few companies to hit other targets. Just as we suspected.” 

Hearing this, the Inu no Taisho felt a deep sense of relief that he had already ensured the demoness’ stronghold was secure and he had left his palace well guarded. 

“I can smell them.” He turned towards the grey horizon where he knew, in a few minutes, thousands would come charging. Eyes still on the valley, he asked Genbu, “How much trouble has my son given you so far?”

The tortoise guardian wanly smiled. “He’s proven himself capable and— thank the gods—isn’t as reckless as you. But I could have used Hōsenki’s abilities today.” He added. 

“As would I.” The Inu no Taisho now turned his gaze to the other end of the line where he knew Sesshomaru stood with his battalions. Disappointment was an inadequate word to describe what he felt when Sesshomaru had not only refused to guard the palace as he had been expressly asked to do but had joined the frontlines instead. As a father, he could forgive the transgression but as a general, he could not. In response, he forced Sesshomaru to lead the flank and shot down any requests of his to be at the centerfield. 

Genbu nodded in understanding. “Has your lady wife been delivered yet?” 

“Any day now.” The Inu no Taisho’s countenance betrayed a veneer of anxiety. A steady stream of letters had come to him from the palace, almost all of them from Izayoi. In the rare moments of spare time he had, he read through them, running his fingers across each character during his perusal as though he could tangibly lift her loving sentiments off the pages. She told him how she spent her days, expressing how much she missed him and her growing excitement in meeting their son. 

But the baby had not come and sensing gaps in Izayoi’s cheerful missives, he filled them in with Myōga’s reports which told him in ominous detail that she hardly left bed and that she could no longer walk without support. _She’s in a very bad way_ , Myōga had worriedly written and asked if it would be possible to send for a skilled healer from the phoenix clan in advance. 

“...is that what I think it is?” Genbu suddenly asked. 

The Inu no Taisho’s mind snapped back to the present, thinking the dragon had arrived but Genbu was pointing towards his sleeve where a crimson swath of fabric peeked out. 

“A robe made from the skins of the fire rat.” Genbu correctly identified and was impressed. “Where did you get such a rarity?” 

“I gave this to Izayoi.” The Inu no Taisho ruefully looked down at his wrist. “But it seems that she slipped it in with my things when I left.” 

“That was a queenly gift you gave,” Genbu remarked, “and lovingly returned by her. She must have done so out of concern for you.” 

“I’d rather wish it was with its rightful owner instead.” His eyes returned to the mountainscape and now could see a black ribbon edging at the base led by a lone rider on a dark steed whom he instantly recognized as Ryūkotsusei in his human guise. 

Almost immediately, he and Genbu stood at the ready as did their army. Their shields burned white, gold, and verdigris as the heavily armored soldiers moved in sync and drew out their double-bladed glaives. Their appearance formed a seemingly continuous silvery line across the front that winked and flashed off the fading sunlight. All eyes watched the dragon’s forces make steady descent on the foothills when they suddenly halted and everyone could see Ryūkotsusei riding down the line with his ebony sword out, apparently shouting something incoherent to them. 

The Inu no Taisho ears pricked up, easily catching his words that otherwise would have been readily lost by distance and wind.

“What’s he saying?” Genbu was mystified as his auditory sense was not as keen as that of his fellow guardian. 

“He’s giving a speech to his men.” 

“By the gods, is there no limit to his vanity. What’s there to make a speech about at a time like this?” Genbu looked on in faint disgust. 

“He’s telling them that I unlawfully took So’unga then abducted and raped Izayoi.” The Inu no Taisho said as he listened to the dragon’s unceasing braying. 

“Well, I guess the part about the sword is true,” Genbu lightly remarked, earning an annoyed glance from the guardian of the west. 

“...now he’s claiming that we three are conspiring to take the throne for ourselves and rule the country as usurpers. That Hakuo deliberately withheld her protection from the empress and the other consorts. He’s blaming her for the emperor’s childlessness.” 

To this affronting lie, the tortoise guardian could only glare at the dragon’s shadow in the distance. 

“Would you like me to repeat what he’s saying about you?” The Inu no Taisho’s amusement was grim. 

In response, Genbu unsheathed his own sword and held it out. Grinning, the Inu no Taisho too, reached for Tessaiga. The air became electrified as it transformed into a long white fang with its edge threateningly pointed at the enemy ahead. 

“If you’re planning to give a speech too, you might as well do it now.” Genbu dryly suggested, keeping a firm grip on his weapon. When the Inu no Taisho unsurprisingly didn’t answer, the tortoise nodded. “Then, what is your command?” 

The ground beneath them trembled as the dragon’s forces began their charge and bled over the horizon, their armored bodies and banners pouring down the valley like an ink spill. Their wrathful screams echoed out into the day but the guardians and their armies remained unmoved as the very mountains that rose above them all. 

“Kill everything on sight.” The Inu no Taisho raised Tessaiga’s blade. 

He felt a breeze sift through his hair and just when the wind scar attack fell from his lips, he heard the sound of spears lifted by hundreds of hands then arced into cutting swipes as the enemy finally crashed against them like a black tidal wave. 

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A powerful hum of voices pervaded the coastal mansion as grey-robed monks in their winter furs knelt in the snowy courtyard on their prayer mats. Their chants to Buddha were but noisy music to Takemaru’s ears and provided not a whit of the supposed spiritual potency that the clergy were famous for. 

The largest braziers had been brought out on his order so the clerics wouldn’t freeze. The fires burned hot and high yet the warmth failed to spread so everyone was chilled anyway. The only ones who did not complain about the cold was the imperial company that Ryūkotsusei and by proxy, the emperor, had sent whose numbers added to his own. A cavalry of two hundred and archers of the same number beefed up the ranks. Fifty warrior monks and a dozen or so priests from a highly-regarded shrine made up the rest to counter whatever sorcery a demon opponent was likely to conjure up in a fight. 

The rest of the household were still returning from the beach where Lord Mototsune’s cremation had taken place. A few had come back, not having changed out of their mourning black robes yet and made for a dismal scene. It had been years since Takemaru had seen the manor so bleached of color and when he glanced at the flames jumping in the braziers, he thought of the funeral. He had only gone for a few minutes at most and left right when the burial attendants lit the pyre that would burn his former liege-lord into ash. 

Along with all evidence that Mototsune had died, not from the wasting sickness that everyone blamed, but by suffocation. 

When he looked back on it, Takemaru was surprised at how easy it was. He thought the moments leading up to his decision and the very act would have been a terrible struggle. That perhaps, at the last minute, he wouldn’t go through with it. Indeed, for several weeks he had wrestled with the dark temptations that the dragon had ignited and was determined his loyalty to Mototsune would remain intact. 

But then, he started to hear verified reports of the Inu no Taisho steadily winning and his mind became stretched thin at the thought that nothing would work out in his favor after all. 

The last straw came when he heard Mototsune make some remark about looking forward to meeting his grandson. In his wildest dreams, he never thought the lord himself would ever come to acceptance and overlook that child’s ill-gotten heritage. It was blasphemous, no, a betrayal. 

So when he went into the lord’s rooms in the dead of night, unseen and unheard, and pushed away the curtains that hung over the bed to look down at Mototsune’s sleeping form, he felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. Not even when he put his hands on the old man’s throat. Mototsune was so ill by then that he didn’t even put up any resistance. It was no different than strangling a chicken, funnily enough. 

_I guess I didn’t care for you as much as I thought._ Takemaru mused to himself and wondered if this was proof of how much he loved Izayoi. He had shown how far he was willing to go for her sake and whatever shred of feeling left in him was exclusively dedicated to his princess. Surely, this was real devotion. 

Then by some stroke of serendipity, he heard the gates open and turned as did everyone else. 

His heart stopped. 

Or rather, it seemed to freeze with fear and go hot with rapture. Standing before him was none other than his princess. The reality of seeing her in person after having clung to only memory was startling and all the more confusing. The Izayoi he remembered had been a visage of perfect beauty yet the woman in the courtyard was terrifyingly celestial. The aspect of her eyes glimmered like starlight against the delicate planes of her lovely face and when the corners of her lips lifted ever so slightly into a gentle smile of greeting, not even the moon could have rivalled the sweet grace of that expression. Her black hair trailed down against a backdrop of the deepest blue robes that were threaded in a pattern of silver phoenixes so with every turn, it was as if she moved with the night sky. 

At her appearance, everyone had gone stock still, not quite believing what they were seeing. Even the monks, for all their vows of renouncing the world, found themselves at a total loss as they beheld their emperor’s consort. 

Takemaru felt overwhelmed, disarmed, even helpless. So much that he couldn’t even speak or remember to be disconcerted that Izayoi was so openly exposed. 

“Takemaru.” Izayoi was relieved to look upon him again. In a spontaneous show of affection, she threw her arms around him, causing the crowd to look on in bewilderment but she didn’t care anymore. Such conventions did not matter in the world she lived in now and she had no intention of returning to the one she had left behind. 

When she pulled away, she found the captain gazing down at her with a slightly dazed look. 

“I’m so glad to find you well.” She meant every word, not knowing how in this moment, she had embraced and was sparing a care for her father’s murderer. “I got your letter and came as fast as I could. How is my lord father now? Is he in his rooms?” 

Her eyes eagerly went past his shoulders to see the manor behind him. 

“Princess…” Takemaru murmured his lady’s new title as he tried to pull himself out of the spell that Izayoi’s embrace had left him in. He stepped back and having recovered some of his senses, he bowed low. At his prompting, all of the household staff, monks, and soldiers followed suit. 

“There’s no need for that.” She interrupted, bidding him to rise but to no avail. 

“We are beyond pleased to have you returned home, Your Highness,” Takemaru kept his eyes on the ground and his knee bent, “and all of us here would like to express our deepest condolences on your loss.” 

“My ‘loss’?” 

Izayoi retreated in confusion. It was then that Takemaru dared to lift his head up and caught sight of her pregnant belly peeking underneath her cloak. All of his illusory hopes and dreams shattered upon impact, pushing him back onto the shores of a very cold reality that the demon had possessed her body. But not, he still believed, her soul. 

Slowly, Izayoi took in her surroundings and noticed the clergy along with the militia. Why were there so many? She knew her manse barely had a hundred men yet in her absence, it seemed to have grown three times its usual size. Then her eyes fell upon one of the servants and the black robe he was wearing. 

Black…

Her hand rose to her mouth and when she at last looked to the sky, she saw the unmistakable pillar of grey smoke coming from what only could have been a funeral pyre. 

“It can’t be…” She turned to Takemaru. 

As he rose, along with everyone else, they all regarded her in universal pity. 

“I don't understand...Father only wrote to me last week. How could he have gone so suddenly—he couldn’t have—I thought he was—” Her speech was breaking up into unintelligible gasps and she clutched at her stomach. 

“It was the wasting sickness, my princess. I’m afraid your lord father wasn’t able to recover.” Takemaru softly padded his lie to not cause her further pain. 

He saw her tears before they fell and thought she might pass out from the way her whole body seemed to tremble. 

“Lord Mototsune has been laid to rest now and the manor has been relegated under my command so you don’t need to worry about anything, Your Highness.” He said to reassure her. “You will be in my protection and after your child is born, my men and I will escort you to the capital so you can be reunited with your true husband.” 

But for the life of him, he couldn’t understand why Izayoi was now looking as though he had just pronounced a sentence of execution. 

“What are you talking about?” Her entire countenance had gone white. “The Inu no Taisho is my husband. His palace is my home and where we intend to raise our son together.” 

A fissure of shock went through the crowd. Had they heard right? The clerics were appalled, the servants utterly astonished, and the soldiers thought she was mad. Only Takemaru alone remained seemingly indifferent. 

“That isn't the future your lord father wanted for you.” He said rather calmly. “You deserve better than to be a monster’s concubine.” 

“How dare you speak of him that way!” She was moved to a frightful passion and if it wasn’t for the growing pains in her side, she would have shouted at the top of her lungs. 

“As for the child, you can put yourself at ease. I’ll make sure you won’t have that burden on your hands when you return to the emperor.” Takemaru continued, choosing to ignore her response. “After all, a _hanyō_ would never be welcome at court and couldn’t possibly compete with any children you bear for His Majesty.” 

He thought that she would be gratified. Any woman in her position would have been. Instead, her exquisite face was bent in agony and rage. 

“ _You will not take my son from me.”_

An unholy anger broke through her and for the first time in her life, she felt murder in her heart towards those who would think to separate her baby from his mother. In some dark corner of her mind, she fleetingly wondered if this was what the Inu no Taisho had felt when the dragon had come for her and if true, she finally understood now. 

But the flood of emotions now consuming her, at last, proved to be too much. 

A terrible, burning sensation gripped her body then. Suddenly she groaned, grabbing her middle as her knees buckled under the hit of what was the first pangs of labor. 

The entire courtyard sprang into action as Takemaru signaled for the maids to take Izayoi away into the manse. The monks turned back to their prayers and the soldiers, shaking their heads in dour disapproval, returned to their formations. This birth would elicit no felicitation or congratulatory feelings but the very reverse. The only thing that made anyone even remotely happy was the sheer fact that once the princess was safely delivered of this monstrous child, they could ship her right back where she belonged with minimal discomfort. 

In silence, Takemaru watched her be supported upright by the women and led back into her old wing of the house, even as her protesting cries rang out amidst the snowfall. 

_I vowed to bring you home,_ he wished he could say to her, _and I promised myself I’d keep you safe. From him. From your child. Someday, you’ll see, my princess._

_Someday, you’ll thank me for this._


	10. Vanished into the Clouds - II

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**Part X: Vanished into the Clouds - II**

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_Artist Credit:[Lysyanime](https://lysyanime.tumblr.com/post/118619916295) _

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Nothing was going according to plan.

Taken out of her robes and stripped to her shift, Izayoi lay exhausted on the curtained dais of her bed. Weakly, she clung to the two kitchen maids that held her by the arms and shoulders. The contractions came on with heightening intensity and pain, wringing her out in waves and left her feeling like she was being burned alive. She tried, valiantly, not to cry or moan but as the hours ticked away into the deep night then dawn...morning...afternoon…

By the next evening, she wanted to die. If it weren’t for the terror of knowing that once her baby came into the world, he would be spirited away, she might have gladly given into death’s welcoming embrace.

Only the fervid wish for her son to live kept her from losing it altogether.

For what must have been the dozenth time, Izayoi blearily watched the attendant crouch before her drawn up knees to inspect how far along she was. To say that this gentlewoman was experienced was being overly generous. The attendant had been present for all of the births that had happened in the manse as a servant, not a midwife, and knew on a surface level of how everything was supposed to go. But the princess’s labor was unusually long and not at all straightforward. No matter how hard Izayoi pushed or how much time had passed, the baby failed to make an appearance.

The women tried having her sit up, walk the room for a bit, even stand on mats, thinking gravity would help speed things along. For hours, they wiped the sweat from her forehead, massaged her back, moistened her lips with a soaked towel, and held her hands when she bore down but it was all they could do. They were dangerously ignorant on how to safely deliver an infant and were limited to simply making their princess comfortable. In their growing desperation, they discussed what had been previously done in the past and wondered if there was a way they could replicate prior successes.

“Can’t the monks pray for Her Highness?” One of the maids pityingly asked the attendant, feeling very sorry for the princess and frightened. People said that hungry, malevolent ghosts often haunted the birthing chamber, drawn by the mother’s weakening spirit and the blood that was sure to follow.

“They’re more concerned about that demon dog. They won’t help even if we asked.” The attendant muttered as she drew back from Izayoi and motioned for the girls to guide her back into bed.

“Maybe we should call for the physician.” The other maid suggested.

The attendant sighed in impatience. “He left when Lord Fujiwara died and I doubt he’d want to return seeing as how he and the captain don’t get along. Her Highness is just going to have to make do with us.” She added although not unsympathetically before she turned to address the princess herself. “I think the baby’s finally turned but you’ve still got some ways to go, my lady.”

“How much further, do you think?” Izayoi faintly asked.

“It depends. Too long, the baby won’t live but too short, you could tear and bleed out.”

Worn out, Izayoi raised her eyes to the ceiling then turned to the side where she could see the knives, thread, and a hand mirror laid out by her bed on clean linen. A basin lined with soft cotton and white swaddling clothes lay in wait for her little boy who had yet to come.

In a rare moment of lucidity, she had demanded that the attendant bring the sharpest knives she could find and cleanse the blades in fire until they glowed red. She remembered from one of her books that this was a way, crude as it was, to eliminate contagion thereby decreasing the risk of infection. But none of the women understood why she was asking for this and wrongly assumed it was some kind of witchcraft she had learned in the demon world. 

“You might have to cut him out of me.” Izayoi whispered, her gaze still on the instruments.

“Your Highness, there’s no surgeon here and if we do that, you’ll die for sure.”

“I want my baby to live.”

“This is a _hanyō_ , my lady, and it’ll be better for you if it's born dead anyway. You can always have more—”

“ _I want my baby to live!_ ” Izayoi vehemently repeated, startling the women. In the entire time they had known her, she had never so much as said an unkind word or raised her voice at them. Darkly, they exchanged glances with each other. To them, it seemed their lady’s disposition had dramatically altered in the time she had been away. Perhaps her demon captor's less-than-savory characteristics had rubbed off on her after all. 

“Calm yourself, Highness,” The attendant tried to get Izayoi to remain still. After some time had passed and she judged that the princess had settled down, she got up. “The girls and I need to get more boiled water and extra linens, my lady, if you’ll give us a moment.”

When the attendant and the maids left, Izayoi lay prostrate on her bedding in the semi-darkness of her room. Her hair was in disarray and her entire body was soaked in perspiration, wracked by indescribable torment. The sheets beneath her were damp from where her waters had broken earlier and had gushed out between her legs. Even in extremis, she could not bear this filth. Hands shaking, she laid both of them right on the top of her distended abdomen and tried to feel for her son.

“My darling sweet boy, please let me get to see you,” she murmured desperately, hoping the baby or the very gods themselves could somehow hear and understand her plea.

Yet it just so happened that another was in the room who did heed her prayer even if it wasn’t meant for him.

“Lady princess…!”

Startled by the familiar voice, Izayoi turned her head and uttered a cry of relief. “Myōga…? Is that really you?”

To her eternal gratitude, she saw the flea demon waddle out of the shadows and over to her bedside. She did not know why but seeing him suddenly brought out all the tears she had been holding back and she had to blink rapidly to stop herself. “How long have you been here?”

“Long enough to see that you’re in dire need of aid.” Myōga consolingly replied.

“Yes, this is...quite the predicament I’ve placed myself in.” Izayoi’s voice trembled with emotion. This had to have been some kind of dream, it was too terrible to be real. In such a short space of time, she had already lost her father, was about to give birth to her son, and quite possibly lose him too.

“Now, now, no use in crying.”

“It’s all my fault.” Izayoi was overwhelmed with guilt. “Because of me, my son is to be taken and after everything my husband has risked for us, I’ve fallen back into the hands of his enemy. How could I have been so stupid?!” She burst out into a sob.

“Hush.” Myōga fluttered by her cheek and tapped his many hands against it in reassurance. “If anyone’s to blame, I’d say it’s that captain.” He narrowed his eyes. “We need to get you out of here and fast.”

“No!” Izayoi said suddenly, deducing at once what Myōga was about to suggest. “No, you can’t. There must be another way. Please don’t send for him.”

“We don’t have a choice!” The flea jumped up and down in protest. “Hōsenki is bound to the palace and all of his lordship’s vassals went east. Who else is there to help you?”

“But how can he leave a warfront to come to me?” Her eyes were dark with worry.

“Hm,” Myōga shook his head at the dilemma, “if not his lordship, maybe he can send someone else in his stead but knowing him, it’s likely he’ll come for you himself—”

Izayoi let out a gasp as she seized up in pain and was forced to wait out its duration. She did not know how much more she could take and was scared. If she felt like this now, she wondered in despair, how was she going to be able to deliver the baby at the critical moment when it mattered? She may have been home, surrounded by her old household and barricaded in by a small army but was in, effect, alone. There was no one here who could truly aid her. Even if she tried, she knew she wouldn’t be able to make it past the grounds before Takemaru or one of his men caught up with her.

She needed help.

If not for her sake, then certainly for the baby’s. His very life depended on it and she wanted nothing more than to ensure his safety.

“...very well.” Izayoi gave in, hating herself for it and praying that she was not making a mistake. That she would not live to regret this. “Very well, Myōga. If you must send for him, then do it.”

Myōga gave a terse nod. “You’re making the right decision.”

_Then why does it feel like it isn’t?_ She thought desolately.

“When you see my husband, please tell him…” she faltered, trying to shore up whatever courage was left in her. “...please tell him that our baby comes first and my life second.”

At this, the flea demon fell completely silent. The weight of this ask felt morbidly heavy and it dawned on him for the first time that there was a real chance that the princess would not survive the night. It filled him with extreme apprehension.

“Would you also let him know,” Izayoi’s eyes were burning as her sight blurred with tears, “that I love him more than anything and I am _so sorry_. If only I had...”

The next contraction robbed her of her speech.

“Save your strength,” Myōga comforted her as he rose to take his leave and fly off to the east, “I’ll see to it that your message gets to his lordship. He’ll come for you, I’m sure of it…”

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Night had descended.

A cold new moon hung over the butchery and destruction that lay about the mountain valley. Birds and beasts from the forests and seas pitted themselves against creatures from all four corners of the isle, raising an ungodly clamor.

The fighting between all sides was unceasing as demon fought demon, tearing through each other’s flesh with abandon and pulling apart the earth in the process. Remnants of fires lit the darkness in trails of glowing red from the volleys of flamed arrows that had flown from ends of the battlefield.

There were no distinct lines anymore as the armies bled into one another, coalescing into a chaos of shields being broken and swords blindly slicing away.

“On your left!” The Inu no Taisho heard Genbu shout in warning as he turned to find a company of the dragon’s soldiers trying to close in on him.

Switching Tessaiga over to his left hand, he unsheathed So’unga with his right. In lightning speed, he went on the offensive, striking his opponents with both blades and sending them sailing clear across the plain. Whipping around, he used Tessaiga to block an incoming blow then swung So’unga out into a clear arc. An amaranthine halo of energy lashed into the sentries’ bodies and split them open. The groans and screams of the fallen reverberated out in the night as their souls disintegrated to nothing.

A sudden roar grabbed his attention next and at the periphery, he saw Ryūkotsusei furiously battling Hakuo and struggling to keep pace with her. The phoenix’s red-gold armor seemed to emanate an inner fire as she deftly circled the dragon, using her nine-tailed gilded whip to great advantage as she struck him repeatedly from multiple directions in single-minded determination. With each hit, yellow fire snaked around Ryūkotsusei and burned right into his skin causing him enormous pain.

“You bitch…!” The dragon screamed as Hakuo’s whip lacerated into his face. “You’d dare to fight me— _me_ —when you should submit—!”

Enraged, he slashed his sword in her direction.

The Inu no Taisho raced ahead but Genbu got there first, stopping Ryūkotsusei’s blade with his own. Violently, the tortoise guardian shoved the dragon back and outstretched his hand, summoning a massive tidal wave out of thin air to subdue him. Ryūkotsusei’s wrath rose up at that as he spun on his heel, veering away from the attack at the last moment.

The dragon raised his weapon and the sky rumbled in response.

“ _Get out of the way!”_ The Inu no Taisho suddenly yelled, realizing Ryūkotsusei’s intent. Acting fast, he swept Tessaiga towards the dragon, sending streaks of deadly light.

Both Genbu and Hakuo tried to step back yet the dragon was faster. Leaping high into the air, away from the wind scar, bursts of powerful lightning blitzed out from either side of his limbs that caught the tortoise and phoenix in its static hold.

He dove down.

“NO!” 

In cruel concurrence, Ryūkotsusei’s sword plunged straight into Genbu’s chest right as a bolt of lightning went through Hakuo.

Blood spurted from Genbu’s lips as he opened his mouth in shock, his body crumpling to his knees, while the phoenix fell backward, her long hair spilling onto the ground in a black heap as her head hit the ground in a kind of finality.

Wrenching his blade out from the tortoise, Ryūkotsusei looked to the Inu no Taisho and smiled. Black blood streamed from a gaping hole where his right eye should have been and one side of his face had been torn open. He laughed then and even harder as he beheld the last remaining guardian.

The Inu no Taisho saw red.

Gripping So’unga with his other hand, a blackened shadow of a serpentine dragon materialized around the sword. Its jaws opened wide as an unearthly howl echoed out and its neck rose high, ready to strike. The wind grew quiet, waiting with bated breath for what was to come.

A titanic blast levelled the ground, flattening everything in its path. Trees were ripped from their roots as cyclones whirled into the mountains and knocked over the rest of the dragon’s army like pins. Hurricane winds screamed throughout the valley and even those at a safe distance could hear them as they looked to the warring heavens.

Sparks flew as So’unga struck against Ryūkotsusei’s sword, its demonic aura crackling against the black blade with lethal intent. The Inu no Taisho bore down, locking his wrists in as the dragon resisted him.

“Is this the best you can do?” Ryūkotsusei panted, still able to manage a grin even though his human form had taken the worst of So’unga’s attack. Torn muscle and ligament was exposed on his leg; the rest of his broken countenance now burned beyond recognition. He bared his teeth at the Inu no Taisho as So’unga’s blade drew menancingly closer.

“...the mortal gave this to you, did she?” He spat as his earlier triumph melted into fury.

With a roar, the dragon pushed back and suckerpunched him. Their blades met in furious tones, rapidly alternating between parrys and forward strikes as they ascended from the plain to greater heights. The very mountains began to shake as both dragon and hound threw one another into the rocks with crushing force.Their bodies tumbled down cliffs, sending each other over the edge, aiming the fall to break bone or induce fatal injury.

Sweeping So’unga out at Ryūkotsusei and barely missing by a fraction, the Inu no Taisho leapt on him. 

Tessaiga came out at the dragon this time, taking his arm.

Ryūkotsusei staggered back, weaponless, and for a second, it looked like it was over. But therein lay a dark irony that for all of his deficiencies, in strength and prowess, he was a match for the Inu no Taisho. He would not go down without a fight. Anything less would have been beneath his dignity as a scion of the great dragons who had long ruled the heavens since time immemorial.

He threw his head back, lifting what was left of his humanoid body and bid the full breadth of his power to break loose. His flesh crumbled into scales as his face stretched into a hideous white mask and the neck elongated into a dragonite head. His limbs grew back, sprouting talons where there once were hands and feet.The peaks of the mountains became no more than pinpricks as he looked down from above, glorying in his true form as a leviathian.

The dragon’s mouth stretched wide, gathering up a storm on its tongue to throw down at the remnants of the Inu no Taisho’s armies when—

A hound’s jaws snapped down on him, its teeth sinking deep into the steely scrag. Ryūkotsusei flailed, whipping his tail into the sides of mountains and sending avalanches in the wake of the impact.

Dragon and dog wrestled with one another, their monstrous forms casting shadows across the battleplain. Ryūkotsusei hissed, madly struggling against the Inu no Taisho’s iron grip and lunged forward to bite only to be struck back onto a fault line. Flying from the ruins of snowed summits, the dragon craned its head to the night sky, drawing forth another lightning storm then descended back towards the hound who rose to meet him, his claws out for blood.

A talon swiped right through the dog’s middle and a fang lodged deep within the dragon’s chest.

Locked in a fatal embrace, they looked at one another with the same red-eyed, murderous intent.

Ryūkotsusei’s body involuntarily leaned back as his spine rested along a rocky facade. The lower half of his form had seized up and was greying into stone. He was being sealed. He could feel a dark magic springing from where the dog’s fang had impaled him and knew he was done.

For now, that is.

“So this is how it’s going to be, my lord Inu no Taisho?” Ryūkotsusei murmured as the enchantment deepened. An insane smile lit up the domino-like features of his face. “You may think you won but this victory is mine. _”_

He heard the hound growl and saw its eyes narrow, still keeping a firm hold on its death grip. He wanted to laugh but his voice was fading out. An eternal sleep was moving fast on him.

“I want you to know that it was me...” Ryūkotsusei whispered as he felt the last iota of freedom slip away. “...and I _cannot wait_ to greet your princess again in hell where we both belong.”

The light in his eyes flickered out and he became still.

An unnatural quiet fell upon the east and for a long moment, it was as if the earth itself had stopped in its orbit and the very stars themselves were looking down to see if what had happened was real.

There was a thunderous noise that rumbled out and it wasn’t until the Inu no Taisho returned to his human guise that he realized it wasn’t coming from the skies. It was his army. Cheering.

Their deafening roars sounded hollow even as the remaining soldiers lifted their weapons in salute and banged their vambraces on their shields to a victorious beat. They had won. The dragon had been defeated. Almost as if in celebration, a light snow began to fall from the night sky. It drifted down, blanketing the corpse-ridden valley with frost.

The Inu no Taisho descended to the foothills and no sooner had his feet touched the rocky ground, he was swarmed at all sides from his men who jostled and pulled at him for a touch, a glimpse of their peerless general. He turned, seeing a blur of faces and incomprehensible voices echoing in his ears as the firelight of shot arrows died off.

_This victory is mine._

Slowly, his hand went to his chest then the abdomen.

Blood. 

He stared at the stains on his fingers and felt the tell-tale, gradual burn of the dragon’s poison seeping into the bloodstream but that wasn’t what disconcerted him. It was Ryūkotsusei’s last words and what he had sworn to Izayoi. He had told her he would return. It was the one thing she had asked of him and he had been determined to keep his word but in the heat of the moment, in that final stretch, he had gone back on it without meaning to.

He wasn’t coming home.

Yet the only thing he could think of was not dying but the look on Izayoi’s face when she would realize that he had broken not only her promise but her heart as well.

_This victory is mine,_ the dragon had said along with that insensible mention...

A shadow of a doubt came across his mind.

Why would Ryūkotsusei say that? Why had he looked so...assured…?

...why?

Amidst the rejoicing battalions, the Inu no Taisho stood still, a world away from the throngs of his soldiers who were clamoring around him in exultant triumph.

_Why?_

“Father.”

The Inu no Taisho turned to see Sesshomaru at his side and was relieved to see his son unhurt. But if one were to have judged his son’s appearance alone on whether or not a battle had occurred, they would have thought Sesshomaru had just stepped out of the palace. In fact, there was not a scratch on him. Not a thread out of place whereas he knew he was bruised and bloodied as his men were. How his son managed, after an all-night fight, to maintain such an elegant facade was beyond him.

Sesshomaru’s unblinking gaze went over to his chest. “Those wounds…”

“I’m all right.” The Inu no Taisho dismissed, all the while feeling increasingly agitated as his thoughts circled back to Ryūkotsusei. “Where are the rest of the dragon’s forces?”

“They’ve retreated north.” Sesshomaru didn’t even spare a backward glance. As far as he was concerned, the remnants were trash and not worth any attention.

“Then take a company with you and follow them. Ryūkotsusei was known to use scorched-earth tactics. There are many human villages that will be vulnerable if we don’t take those demons out.”

“Let the guardian of the north handle it then. It’s his territory.”

“Genbu is dead.” The Inu no Taisho icily responded to his indifference. “As is Hakuo. The very least we can do is protect their regions until their successors are found. They would have done the same for me.”

“Taking them for your own would be much simpler.”

“Then I’d be doing exactly what Ryūkotsusei was accusing me of all along.” The Inu no Taisho snapped, angered by Sesshomaru’s seeming unwillingness to defend the human-occupied terrains. “Now, do as I say and pursue whatever is left of his army.”

“If that is your wish.”

“It’s an order.” The Inu no Taisho made it clear. 

“My lord! My lord!”

“Myōga?” The Inu no Taisho blinked, startled by his grand counselor’s unexpected appearance.

The flea raced over to him, out of breath. “My lord...thank the gods, I found you.”

“Convenient timing.” He jadedly remarked, thinking that the flea had deliberately made himself known only _after_ the battle had concluded.

“No, it’s not like that, I swear!” Myōga strenuously protested as sweat poured out from his forehead in big fat drops. At the last moment, he caught sight of Sesshomaru and panicking, he immediately moved to perch himself on the Inu no Taisho’s shoulder.

“It’s about her ladyship. Not good news, I’m afraid...”

“What?” The Inu no Taisho was jolted into alarm.

“There was a letter. The princess received word her father was ill and was asked to come home. So she went...by herself....” Myōga forced himself to tell the truth. 

“How is that possible—?” The Inu no Taisho began only to stop when he realized what this meant and felt betrayed. “Hōsenki let Izayoi out of the barrier?”

“He did, my lord, only because she was very desperate to leave. But when she got there, her father apparently had passed away and the shock of it...you can imagine…” Myōga blabbered on, well aware how furious the Inu no Taisho was becoming. “Then that captain Takemaru—”

“Takemaru?” The Inu no Taisho recognized the name at once, distantly recalling the impetuous captain from Izayoi’s household. “What does he have to do with this?”

At this point, Myōga knew he was gambling with death.

“He...he has control of the manor now.” His mouth went dry as he flattened under the Inu no Taisho’s gaze. “The princess went in labor not long after she came home and when she gives birth, he intends to take the baby away and return her to the emperor—” 

“ _What?”_

“My lord, it’s...there’s…” Myōga felt like passing out. “...she...she wanted me to tell you…”

He repeated Izayoi’s words verbatim and saw, with dread and pity, the instant effect they had on his master.

“Our son comes first and her life is second?” The Inu no Taisho repeated numbly. He stared down at the snowed ground and watched his blood stain it red. _Her life._ But only the prospect of death could have inspired her to say something like that. It was as if the mountains had vanished along with all of his company, leaving him in total solitude within the nothingness of winter. She was dying.

Izayoi was dying.

Brusquely, the Inu no Taisho turned to leave, causing some of the men to fall back in stupefied wonder and bewilderment to the sudden change in his behavior. The very temperature of the air itself seemed to have dropped several degrees lower and they stepped away, uneasy. Something, it was clear, was terribly wrong.

_This victory is mine,_ the dragon’s words haunted him and it wasn’t until that moment he finally understood.

“Return to the palace and have everything ready for my wife’s return.” He instructed Myōga. "I'll go to the manse and bring her back home myself." 

“My lord, you can’t be serious!” Myōga vociferously objected as he jumped down to the ground. “Look at the state you’re in! You can’t possibly go like this! You musn’t be too rash, your wounds from Ryūkotsusei haven’t healed yet and you know we must treat the dragonite poison first or you’ll be—”

“ _I cannot allow her to die like that!”_ The Inu no Taisho burst out.

“But—why—why can’t you send one of your battalions instead—?!” Myōga might as well have been speaking to the wind for the Inu no Taisho had turned on his heel and was already departing, his mind crystallizing on one single goal with every step he took.

“Father, wait.” Sesshomaru reached out to grab his arm.

The Inu no Taisho glared down at his son’s offending hand before throwing it off. “I gave you my commands and expect you to honor them.”

“You speak of honor and yet you’re the one abandoning your army.” Sesshomaru’s eyes narrowed. “Let the human woman go. She is not worth the risk—”

“—and if I decide that she _is_ , do you intend to stop me?” The Inu no Taisho’s voice was so wrathful that all the soldiers went quiet. Sesshomaru however was unperturbed and the next words he said not only alienated the father from the son but made it presciently clear that he knew what the outcome was looking to be.

“Since you insist on saving that worthless mortal of yours, perhaps you should leave So’unga and Tessaiga with me.”

One could have heard an ant walking on the ground from the terrible silence that followed. No one dared to speak and those present were deeply regretting being unintentional witnesses to this exchange. Myōga, too, shrank behind the Inu no Taisho’s shoulder from amazement and dread at Sesshomaru’s audacity. All that passed between the two was the snow drifting down from the winter sky and the Inu no Taisho’s blood trailing down his arm.

“Are we really doing this now?” He stepped forward, his long shadow casting over his son as he towered over him in cold anger with Tenseiga and Tessaiga at his side. So’unga was at his back and it's very grip seemed to gleam in malevolent light at the prospect of yet another kill. A dragon may have battered him today but there was enough strength left within him for a fight, if that was what Sesshomaru was truly looking for.

“If I refuse,” his voice spelled out in warning as well as a challenge, “what then, Sesshomaru? Would you try to kill me?”

He searchingly gazed into his face, wondering when this divide had happened and what had finally pushed his son into contemplating patricide. Sesshomaru was young and agile, but he was older, stronger, and far more experienced. A millenia’s worth of accumulated victories could outweigh a few centuries worth of brooding and scheming.

“Is conquest all that matters to you?”

Sesshomaru’s face hardened. “It should have been for you.”

“When you talk like that, I hear your mother’s words and not your own. There are many things that can surpass the mere solitary pursuit of power.”

“Things that have no value with our kind.” Sesshomaru countered. “But power is strength and strength leads to supreme conquest.”

Any demon would have agreed with this and there was no fault in his logic. What he said was no lie but a truth that merely outlined the core upon which their very existences were based on. Yet the Inu no Taisho could not find it in him to praise his eldest son or even be proud that Sesshomaru’s mindset was no different from any _daiyōkai._

He had wanted him to go far beyond that.

_You were supposed to be better than me,_ he grimly thought as he regarded Sesshomaru, _better than all of this._

“...do you honestly believe that’s the only way to achieve greatness?”

“What other way would there be?”

The Inu no Taisho’s eyes were inscrutable. “Is there nothing in this world that you would want to protect?”

Sesshomaru turned aside in profound disappointment which the others mistook as a sign of backing down. How predictable. Another riddle from his lord father and one that he would never be able to solve, try as hard as he might. Whatever their purpose was lost on him, wasted really. Not only would he fail to understand, he had no desire to learn or accept the supposed wisdom embedded in these kinds of questions. Least of all, this paradox. Why, in the name of all the gods, would the Inu no Taisho be so eager to throw everything away for the sake of a mortal woman?

To run from the chance at ruling all four regions in order to _try—_ who knew if the girl was even still alive at this point _—_ to save one life was incomprehensible.

In fact, it was sheer stupidity.

As for power, the Inu no Taisho himself was a living embodiment of it. Everything about him inspired greatness and Sesshomaru could still recall the formidable awe he felt as a child when he beheld his father in his true form gliding through the night sky and stretching over the moon. There seemed to be nothing the Inu no Taisho _couldn’t_ do, the one who had the makings of a conqueror and could have had any throne he wanted.

Instead, Sesshomaru now saw this clearly, all his lord father cared about was playing the hero and unable to resist the chance at rescuing his damsel-in-distress.

To be held in such sway over something so insignificant as that…

He wanted to tell him it was folly but by the time he looked in his father’s direction, there was nothing there.

Only a moving darkness that blackened the snow and seemed to blot out the stars as it raced across the night.

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Izayoi strained under the effort to push and keep her legs apart. When the contraction finally passed, she collapsed back onto her bed and turned her head into the pillow as she cried because it was so awful. The maids held down her thighs, looking fearful, as the attendant knelt down to examine her. When she finally looked up, her expression somber, the maids knowingly glanced at each other in deep dismay.

Quietly, the women straightened Izayoi’s legs and covered her up with an outer robe. They untied the gauze canopy over the bed, letting the fabric drape the sides so she was shielded from view. One of the maids wiped her forehead while the other left to extinguish most of the candles.

“What is happening…?” Izayoi could barely speak as the lights started to go out and the girls were finishing up their tasks.

It was then that the attendant took the princess’s cold hand into her own and spoke to her, not as a servant, but a woman.

“You must prepare yourself.”

That was when Izayoi realized the worst had come to pass. They were giving up on her, and in effect, on the baby as well.

“No…” Izayoi struggled to get up and try again. “No, no, I have to…”

“It’s been too long, princess.” The attendant’s voice drifted close. Her weathered fingers ran along Izayoi’s own smooth ones comfortingly.

Izayoi drew back from her touch. The women looked back at her with equal expressions of weary resignation which did nothing to assuage her panic. Arrested onto the matting of her bed, she then steeled herself for what she knew was going to be a massive hedge against the odds.

“Bring Takemaru to me.” Her order was no more than a breathless pant.

“Men aren’t allowed in the birthing chamber—”

She pounded a fist onto her sheets. “Bring him to me!”

“As you wish, my lady.” The attendant was frustrated but did as she was told and left, sliding the panels behind her.

“Please,” Izayoi implored to the maids when the attendant had gone, “give me the mirror. Let me see…”

They obeyed, propping her up to a sitting position and holding up a hand mirror between her legs so that she could take a look. She could see the waxing crescent of the baby’s head pressed out of her opening but it hadn’t crowned, much to her panic as she knew it had been hours. She had to get him out and soon. If she couldn’t do it on her own…

Terrified, she glanced at the knives next to her.

“When the attendant comes back and after I’ve spoken with the captain, I’ll need her or one of you to help me.” She said in a low voice after the girls put the mirror aside and placed her on her back again.

“What do you mean, my lady?” One of the maids looked as worried as her voice sounded.

“You have to take the baby out of me.”

“....oh no!” Both girls’ hands leapt up to their faces in horror, understanding what she wanted.

“My lady, we can’t!” The first maid started to panic. “We don’t know how to cut a baby out and if we do it, you’ll die! Please, no!”

“I may not have much choice.” Izayoi tried to calm them by steadying her own tone even though she herself was scared out of her mind. “But if my son is to live, I have to deliver him tonight or he won’t survive and I cannot allow that to happen.”

But the maids were frightened and didn’t dare come close to where the knives were, no matter how much Izayoi pleaded with them. All the while, the minutes ticked away and the attendant had not yet appeared. Or Takemaru, for that matter.

“Let me find out what’s keeping them, Highness.” One of the maids offered to leave, glad to find an opportunity to escape. It was just too much to bear the thought of witnessing and even participating in what surely would be the princess’s torture.

The second maid however was not so lucky and was forced to keep her lady company, helplessly left to endure her lachrymose gaze.

“Why is everyone so insistent that I stay alive at the expense of my child’s life?” Izayoi asked her mournfully. “Can’t you understand that if he dies, so do I?”

“...the captain told us we had to do everything we could to keep you safe, Highness. He said we had to because the emperor is waiting for you.”

Izayoi closed her eyes, fighting the oncoming pain and feeling her muscles writhe inside like they were being scorched within. “Then it seems I am to disappoint His Majesty yet again.” She breathed through the pain. “I have no intention of going to the capital or being at his side. I could never love him, not after all that’s happened.”

“But you’re the princess—”

“I never wanted to be one.” Izayoi sadly smiled at the girl and saw that she was surprised by this response.

“Then, my lady,” the maid ventured to ask, emboldened by her mistress’s candor, “do you really prefer being with that demon?”

“How could I not?” Izayoi’s voice turned gentle. “He is a demon, yes, but he is no monster. I know what people say about him but that is my truth. I have seen that there is real goodness in him. He’s kind, gentle, compassionate, and has always tried to ensure my happiness. In protecting me, he took on so much, yet he still does it anyway.”

The maid looked at her in incredulity. “But he’s the one who took you away and kept you imprisoned for so long.”

“Not everything is as it seems,” Izayoi acknowledged, “and you’re right, he did take my freedom. He gave it back when he realized it was wrong and by then, I wanted to stay with him.”

“Don’t you blame him at all?” the maid was truly puzzled, “I didn’t even know demons could love a person.”

“He expanded my world. I can’t fault him for that.” The princess’s eyes softened and she wished that she could have shown everyone even a tenth of what the Inu no Taisho had taught her. Perhaps that would have made them understand.

“As for love,” she turned to her, “I didn’t know very much of it either and when I finally did, it was like discovering the night sky for the first time. I never knew there could be so much beauty in darkness. You can’t see the moon, the stars, or the river of heaven in the day. It’s only in the absence of light that you can glimpse that kind of wonder. That’s what I feel like to be loved by him.”

For the first time in a long while, the maid saw Izayoi look as if she was finally at peace. There had been only a few candles left lit and the one closest to the bed was nearing the last of its wick, rendering the whole room in a play of flickering light and shadow.

An expectant quiet now settled into the birthing chamber at last and all traces of the prior panic had gone, leaving Izayoi to suffer in silence as her contractions continued.

“...where is everyone?” Izayoi managed to ask through breathless gasps.

“I’m not sure.” The maid turned to look over her shoulder, uneasy. “I don’t know what’s taking so long. I should go look.” She was about to rise when Izayoi shakily reached for her hand.

“Please stay with me.” Izayoi whispered.

“I’ll only be a moment, my lady, I promise.” The maid stood up from her place and soon was gone. Izayoi was left alone.

Tiredly, she tried to peer through the slivers of her curtains to look out at the only window that had been left open by the women for some air. She could see the distinctive red glow and cold glimmer of the fire and evening stars, both burning radiant with the benefit of a clear night. The white hazy brush of the milky way was all that lay between them and by sight, she realized that tonight was a new moon otherwise the stars would not look as bright as they did now.

_My love, can you see this too from where you are?_ She felt so far from the Inu no Taisho and isolated under the magnificence of the nightly heavens.

Just then, she heard the distinctive clink of armor pressing onto the dais.

“Who is it?” Izayoi turned to the moving figure behind the blinds.

“It’s me, princess.”

“Takemaru.” She relaxed at the sound of his voice. He had finally agreed to speak with her after all and had forgone with etiquette. The attendant must have done a great deal of persuading for him to have overcome his deep sense of decorum. “Thank goodness you’re here. I’m afraid all of my women went out to go look for you.”

“They found me.” His voice was very low and she almost didn’t catch his reply. She wished she could sit up to talk but felt immobilized by the weight of her middle. The canopy shielded much of her view so that she could only see a hint of Takemaru’s sitting form.

“We just received word from the east,” she heard him say unexpectedly, “that the dragon has fallen by the Inu no Taisho’s hand.”

“Is he safe?” She spoke out her first thought.

“...yes, my lady.”

She breathed an audible sigh of relief and felt an enormous burden lift off her chest, almost as if she had not endured two nights of labor. He was alive. He had kept his promise. She could have laughed then for joy.

“We were informed that he’s now on his way here.” Takemaru continued, gripping his hands into fists as he knelt before the bed. It was taking the entirety of his soldier’s discipline to not lash out. He had almost wanted to run his sword through the messenger who had first brought him the news and couldn’t believe it even though he knew, deep down, it was true. The damned dog had won which meant _he_ was going to lose Izayoi and that was more than he could bear.

“He’s coming here? Tonight?” Izayoi murmured dazedly.

“Yes. For you, it seems.”

A whirlwind of emotions spun within her, pulling her in all sorts of ways and feelings. There was concern, fear, dread, and yes, happiness. Abandoning her original plan to beseech Takemaru in letting her keep the baby for a few days so she could buy time for the Inu no Taisho, she could not deny that she was deeply comforted by the fact that her husband was on his way to her now. All the more reason why she had to find the strength within herself to deliver the baby and, she realized, give the others a chance. Even Takemaru. 

Slowly, she turned her head towards him.

“Then, you must do as I ask. Please take all of your men and escape the grounds at once.”

“But what about you?” She heard him say and thought he was asking out of general concern for her welfare, not aware of the dark rotation of his thoughts that was cycling through him.

_I can’t let him take you,_ he wanted to tell her, _it’ll be the second time that he stole you from me and I can’t just stand by to let that happen. Not again. I promised myself that I wouldn’t._

“Please don’t stay and put yourself at risk or the others.” Izayoi entreated. “He’s...I’m afraid there is no one who is strong enough to challenge him.”

Her assessment, however kindly meant, was nonetheless a blow. She must have been in real despair, Takemaru believed, for her to think that he would abandon her without a second thought. Did she really believe that he was going to just leave her for the Inu no Taisho to come and carry her off like last time? Did she think so little of his devotion that she thought he could simply walk away?

He dared to take a glimpse of her.

She was all in white, her hair falling around her in streams of black as she lay prone on the bed and he saw that she was in a great deal of pain. To see her reduced to such a state...he would make the demon pay for this gross violation and neither could he endure another moment of her suffering. He had to save her. Just as she had done for him once.

Stealthily, his hand reached down for the spear he had laid low on the floor so as not to make her afraid. Knowing his skill, he trusted he would make this quick and not hurt her as much. It would be his greatest gift, if not the tenderest of mercies he could provide.

“My princess,” Takemaru gazed down at her, “for as long as I’ve been at this house, I have always felt the deepest affection for you.”

He raised the pole, willing himself to not shake or tremble. He had to get this right.

“Even if you’re carrying a _hanyō_ , even if your heart was captured by a demon. Even then,” the blade gleamed in the last candlelight, “my feelings for you will never change.”

The stifled, pained gasp she gave passed over him like a wave that drowned him in sorrow but his resolve remained as unmoving as the rocks on a shore. His aim had been true. He knew the injury was fatal.

He rose to go.

Respectfully, he bowed to Izayoi’s screened figure one last time and gathering himself up, he walked out of her bedchamber. He did not want to see her die, preferring to keep his last memory of her as intact and perfect. The girl laughing on the seashore with the sunlight on her hair and the ocean wind teasing out the hems of her dress. The smiling woman whose slender tapering fingers would hover over the strings of her instrument as she played the notes of some forgotten song. Unblemished and happy, long before the Inu no Taisho had stretched out his claws and tore her away.

Had Takemaru stayed, the course of fate would have run very differently. For all of the gods’ schemes were but mere dreams subject to a mortal’s whims and could only be made into reality through free will. Here, Takemaru chose to go and that in of itself was a blessing-in-disguise for the princess he so cruelly left behind although he did not know it.

Breathing hard, Izayoi’s hand shook as she ran it over her impacted side.

To her horror and shock, she could feel the wooden shaft of the spear sticking it out like some dreadful thorn. It had happened all right. This was real. She had been stabbed. She knew it was over for her, that was certain, but was her baby dead too…?

She started to cry in full blown panic.

There was so little light in the room as the candle nearest to her had gone out but there were a few left in the hall and she still had the stars. The stars were there, right outside her window, watching and waiting. Bravery often appears in the most unexpected of places and circumstances. The weak find themselves strong and those who thought they were too small to do anything realize they could make a big difference after all. In that moment, somehow a flicker of courage came and along with it a curious calm that descended upon her slowly, gradually, washing away her mindless fear.

_Don’t remove it...I can’t remove it, it’s a part of me now,_ Izayoi fleetingly remembered from the manuscripts she had browsed. The library. Drawings of the body made by physicians who lived in the desert.

Trembling, she shifted her body away from the side and tried to inspect herself as best as she could. The blade was about halfway in. Any more force or weight, it would pull out easily. She glanced at the side of the bed where the maid had left the hand mirror and saw that she had to decide between using that to see what she was doing as she pushed or keeping a firm hand on the spear so she wouldn’t bleed out.

She chose the mirror.

With strenuous effort, she turned as best as she could to get on all fours, trying to stabilize herself without moving the spear too much and slid down the mirror on the sheets so she could view the baby’s head. Lifting her shift to her thighs and from the reflection beneath, she saw that he was just about to crown. Perhaps the force of the hit had moved him closer to the opening, she wasn’t sure.

_Breathe, breathe, breathe..._ she encouraged herself to pant as she mightily fought against a powerful, animalistic urge to push and the tortuous burn she felt at her side. She had to do this slowly and couldn’t believe how hard it was. Sweat ran down her face as she tried to concentrate through the pace of the contractions. One...two...she felt it pass after the fifth count and reached down to gently ease back the skin, guiding the baby to fully crown at last.

Waiting through the next contraction, she braced herself with one hand on the bed mat while the other kept the spear steady. Instead of pushing, she struggled to take as many deep breaths as she could to allow the muscles of her stomach naturally let the head be born. When she felt something emerge, she let out a sob of relief even though she was besides herself with pain.

At the next one, she instinctively knew that was when she could give it her all and her baby would be brought into the world. Desperate yet hopeful, she almost forgot that she was dying then. The throes of her agony followed by a rush of adrenaline were making her delirious. Preparing herself, she let go of the spear.

The contraction rolled back like a tide and came crashing against her. She let herself get carried away, crying out as she felt the baby’s shoulders and his whole body slip out of her onto the soft mat along with the blade at her side. It was over for her. But just the beginning for him.

The first noise she heard as she righted herself to sit on her knees was a faint mewl then a big gasp, a cough, and finally a loud scream as the baby began to breathe on his own.

Exultant with emotion, she laughed through her tears. Blood pooled around her in a horrendous puddle but all she cared about was the infant lying before her. With trembling hands, she clumsily worked to clamp the cord with thread and cut it using one of the knives that had been put out. Then gathering the sheets around her son in a haphazard warp, she lifted him into her arms.

She was startled by the length and downy softness of his silver hair along with the ears that stuck out on top. Ten fingers, ten toes, a strong little body without a trace of injury, a face with the roundest, rosiest cheeks she ever saw. When she noticed his eyes struggling to open, she glimpsed a thin line of gold and her face broke out into a radiant smile.

“You’re perfect.” She whispered through his cries as she lowered her lips to kiss him.

She couldn’t believe it.

Her son was here, alive and well.

He had beaten the odds and from his first breath had shown his mettle. From the joy of this delivery alone, she felt as though she had conquered the world. The mountains could have fallen at her feet and the seas may have stalled at her command. She was powerful, fulfilled. Her happiness in beholding her baby eclipsed the nightly sufferings and the grief she had endured.

_My darling, he’s so beautiful and he’s ours, I can’t believe he’s ours,_ Izayoi thought of the Inu no Taisho as she held their child and put her face to his in loving affection.

“ _Ah…!”_

She swayed as her wound hemorrhaged and felt her body give into weakness.

As carefully as she could, she set the baby down and dropped beside him, exhausted. The room now felt so cold. _Has the fire gone out?_ She wondered insensibly. 

Dizzy, she dragged the edge of the outer robe the women had left and covered herself along with the baby. There was blood underneath her fingernails and on her palms, turning from bright red to russet.

“Sshh...it’s alright.” Izayoi tenderly stroked her son’s hair as he squirmed and whimpered under his blankets. She felt the bedding get soaked underneath her from her bleeding and tried to shift the baby away but even that small act was too much for her. The afterbirth hadn’t even come yet. Her strength was fading fast.

“It’s alright.” She slipped her finger into one of his tiny fists and felt his own little fingers wrap around it with surprising vigor. “Don’t be scared...your father will be here soon.” She whispered, wishing she could stay awake long enough. “He’s going to take you home.”

She closed her eyes in fearful expectancy. Death was coming for her. This would be the first and last time she would get to be with her son. There wouldn’t be any moments left to say goodbye to her husband either. She tried to remember him, to imagine his face at least, but somehow she couldn’t. Everything was all just a blur.

A brilliant, beautiful mess of memories held together across time. A sky full of pink and purple blooms. Opened scrolls with ribbons scattered on the floor, a touch of a hand and passionate sweep of the wrist. His voice murmuring her name against the back of her neck. Silver hair twisted in black. A figure in the distance of a familiar shoreline, the waves washing away his footprints as he walked towards a setting sun.

Somewhere in this sweet surrender, a poetic phrase she had come across drifted into her thoughts as her life began to close. She had read it once from an epistle, written a millenia ago by a saint who lived in a distant land far beyond her own and had awaited his execution to be carried out by the hands of his pagan captors.

_I knew him at once from the love in his glance…_

Her lips stretched into a beatific smile as her last thought touched upon the ardent gaze of golden eyes and she fell into eternity.

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The walls of the manse quaked under the tremors of a monstrous attack, the likes of which Takemaru recognized as belonging to a demon.

He could hear men screaming, perhaps even dying, and when he heard another terrific blast that sounded like it had run easily through stone, he knew that the gates had been breached.

In the middle of the chaos, he thought he might have heard the cry of a newborn but dismissed it as a hallucination. A trick of the ear, maybe. It was not possible for the child to have lived. He had made sure of that.

He walked across the oaken bridgeways, taking in the stately scenery one last time.

Everything was covered in a sheen of glittering white snow. All the galleries were empty, framing the beautifully clear night in panes of very fine latticework. No icicles hung from the ultramarine-tiled eaves and when he looked to where the garden was, there was nothing but the rocks and an icy circle where the pond had been. Izayoi’s rooms had overlooked this very area, he remembered. The groves were bare now and there were no more flowers, of course.

Then again, now that his princess was gone, he didn’t think there would be any. It certainly felt like this winter would be endless with no hope of spring returning.

“Izayoi…!” A voice shouted in the dark and he knew instantly who it was. “ _Izayoi_!”

When he emerged from the shadows of the main hall to the courtyard, a scene of destruction greeted him. To his cold dissatisfaction, he saw that over half of his battalion had fallen. Over two hits. The clerics’ bodies were scattered everywhere, either dead or unconscious, he wasn’t sure and he didn’t care. But he still had his archers, some foot soldiers too. Even a handful of warrior monks left. It might have been enough for a distracting fight but not a total victory.

In the distance ahead, he saw the Inu no Taisho. He had been shot full of arrows and looked like he was bleeding from the inside but he remained, infuriatingly, standing. The earth could have cracked beneath him and he probably would have been fixed in that spot judging from the sheer look of determination on his face.

All the hate rose up at once. What was it going to take to bring down this creature?

“At last, you’ve arrived,” Takemaru called out to him, descending from the hall as he unsheathed his sword and held it at the ready. “A little late, though.”

He was enjoying this. Even from here, he could see a momentary confusion flicker over the demon’s gaze. The Inu no Taisho may have been a _daiyōkai_ but he was not an omniscient god. He could tell that the demon wasn’t sure whether or not he was lying. For once, he was happy to oblige him.

“You can’t go to where she is.” Takemaru told him with a measure of relish. “She’s beyond you now, like she always was.”

_I took her from you myself._

He watched the Inu no Taisho closely for any kind of reaction and was rewarded many times over. There was shock—no, disbelief, that was it—like what he heard wasn’t right—an epiphany—horror— _rage_ —

Takemaru wanted to smile. There, at last. He could see it. The Inu no Taisho was _in despair._ He had brought the great demon low by cunning alone and given up his princess to her salvation. Her soul was in paradise, he was sure of it, and her lover could never join her there. Eternity would tear them asunder by the everlasting chasm between heaven and hell. And he was determined to drag the beast into its fiery depths even if it was to be his last act on earth.

_For you, my lady._

Takemaru ran at him.

The speed in which Tessaiga took his arm almost took the edge out of the pain entirely. He watched, uncomprehending, as the limb fell from his body and hit the ground. He dropped to one knee, stunned and only at the last moment, was able to catch a glimpse of the Inu no Taisho whipping past him to go straight into the manor. _Why wasn’t he staying? Why wasn’t he trying to fight?_

He couldn’t understand it. He had been fully expecting to battle it out yet the demon had swept from him as if he was not worthy of any notice.

Blood seeped into the snow and as he stared down at the red splashes corrupting the white beneath, his eyes flew open in shock.

_The demon was trying to get to Izayoi._

“Captain! Captain!” One of his lieutenants ran towards him in alarm.

No...he couldn’t let that happen…even if it was only her body, it was still his princess...

“Burn it!” Takemaru suddenly screamed out his order. Wildly, he turned to the archers that were left to him. “Burn the mansion down! Burn it down _now!_ ”

He fought to rise and almost threw off his lieutenant when the man came rushing after him as he tried to get him to lie down.

“Sir, please! Stay still! We can find someone to help you—”

“ _Leave me.”_

“Captain, where are you going?! Captain! _Captain!”_

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A darkness and an inferno awaited him yet the Inu no Taisho hurtled in.

Screams erupted from the main complex as dozens of servants streamed through the galleries, shielding their heads as best as they could from the onslaught of flaming arrows that fell from the sky in all directions. Some even ran past him, too terrified out of their wits to realize what he was as they raced to the nearest exit they could find.

The manse had been built upon stone but everything above the foundations was wood and paper which served as tinder to the flames, letting the fire consume them all. Every corner burned orange and the beams of the very rooftops were starting to bend from the heat. Plumes of black and grey smoke flooded the corridors, suffocating out whatever life might be left within. Paneled doors easily broke apart, their panes turning black as they became ash.

“ _Izayoi!”_

Blindly, he ran into the worst of the fire and kept calling for her. Was she fleeing in his direction? Had she already escaped? He turned to look right, left, north, and south but there was no sign of her anywhere. But she _was_ here. He was sure of it.

The fumes coming from the burning mansion almost choked out his sense of smell yet he could detect a very faint ribbon of Izayoi’s scent flickering towards him like some magic thread floating helplessly in the wind.

He followed it, tearing through the flames with Tessaiga as he raced deeper into the inner pavilions. The wound on his stomach was searing. Everything was so hot and bright around him, he couldn’t see clearly.

“Izayoi!” He called out to her again but there was only silence. Anxiety clawed its way through him as he desperately wondered why there was no answer. The human captain must have been lying or using a ruse to distract him. His conscience refused to believe any other alternative.

He went further north, chasing down an invisible trail amidst the flames. It went weak when he made a left turn but then he was able to pick it up again on an adjacent bridgeway. He could smell her more strongly than before, then knowing he was on the right track, kept going. He blocked falling debris with his sword, pushed away smoldering blinds, dived low to avoid tiles that shattered on the ground, lost the scent for a moment, panicked, then shoved through a backway that brought him to the northern gallery.

There he stumbled upon a heap of corpses, all female. A middle-aged woman along with two young girls. All three had been stabbed, either in the back or front, and had the scent of Izayoi’s blood lingering upon their hands. Along with Takemaru’s.

A scream of frustration nearly tore out of him.

These must have been Izayoi’s attendants which meant…

_No!_

_By all the gods, no…!_

He turned to a series of inflamed panel doors that led to a nearby pavilion when he detected a much stronger pull of Izayoi’s scent and…

...was he imagining it? Was that a baby crying?

Immediately he threw his shoulders against the panels, crashing through splintering wood and torn paper that became flying embers.

He came upon what could only have been Izayoi’s old rooms which were now emblazoned in fire all across the walls. But the smell of blood was overwhelming. Its iron tang seemed embedded in the floor and was coming strongest from the curtained bed. Searing-hot flames had already reached it, licking its way upward on the flimsy fabric and burning away the embroidered butterflies within its folds. He could hear the screams of a newborn even more clearly in the wreckage. _His son._

“Izayoi!”

Without a second thought, he grasped the canopy and flung it aside.

He staggered back, utterly annihilated by what he saw.

His windpipe felt like it had been crushed, leaving him entirely absent of breath. He thought he was choking, maybe drowning in his own blood and anguish. He wanted to fall down to his knees, feeling crucified by a piercing agony that went deep into the core of his being. 

It was too late.

He had come too late.

“ _....Izayoi.”_ He could barely speak her name.

Thunderstruck, his hand violently trembled as it reached out for her body that lay before him, fallen at its side with the baby cradled close. Her black hair gleamed almost red in the firelight but not nearly as much as her blood-soaked bed. Loneliness and fear clung to the stained sheets along with tears. There had been so many tears. A trench of despair cleaved his heart when he took it all in. She had died alone and afraid. Perhaps her last thought had been spent desperately wondering where he was as she waited in vain.

And their child…?

His eyes dementedly went over to the moving bundle where he could see just the top of a silver-haired head and hear the most dreadful cries coming from it.

_Our baby comes first and my life second…_

Her unspoken words echoed across his conscience as he felt his mind descend into madness and a white-hot need for vengeance amplified his fading strength by tenfold. _This victory is mine,_ the dragon had said to him. He would go back east and drive the fang straight into Ryūkotsusei’s heart to ensure a true death. He would return to the courtyard and finish Takemaru off, hack him piece by piece and scatter it across all four corners of the island. He would even go to the capital itself and behead the emperor with So’unga then burn down that damned mortal’s wretched nine-fold palace along with all of its inhabitants. Innocent or guilty, it wouldn’t matter. They had all wanted to contain Izayoi within its confines and force upon her a crown that she never desired just as he had never wanted a throne.

_Izayoi._

Anguished, his teeth clenched down even as a terrible roar of pain and grief was about to blister out of his throat. The flames blazed behind him as if in assent. His ears were ringing with the baby’s screams.

He couldn’t do it.

He couldn’t do what she had asked.

Yet another fateful promise he would break today.

In grief-stricken rage, he sheathed Tessaiga and reached for Tenseiga. Her life never came second to him. Because she was his first...and always would be. He raised the blade over her.

“I’m begging you,” he nakedly pleaded to the sword.

The enchantment pulsed in his hand and washed over her lifeless form to illuminate the netherworld’s gremlins. He saw them, gloomy hellions who dragged their tiny scythes over their shoulders as they crawled over their latest bounty to take back with them to the land of the dead.

He swiped across them, clearing their presence from this world and enclosing Tenseiga, he dropped to his knees.

Taking Izayoi into his arms, he drew her close to him. Her head lolled back against his vambrace even as he pressed his lips against her icy cheek and whispered to her, asking her to wake up. She remained still. His hand ran across her closed eyes, feeling the lashes along his palm then trailed over to her lips, his thumb tracing out their shape where it caught a thin stream of red that ran from a corner. Desperate, he bent down and covered his mouth with hers as he drew away any blood that might have restricted breath. He held her tightly, clenching a fist over her heart as he gently struck against it in imitation of a heartbeat.

_“Breathe,_ ” he begged as the taste of her mingled with his own on his tongue, _“breathe.”_

He deepened his reviving kiss, swallowing out death and breathing life back in.

For one terrible moment, he thought the magic had failed.

Then—

He felt her reflexively cough against his mouth.

Wrenching away, he pulled back, startled. Her head stirred on its own accord and when he looked down, her eyes were open and looking up at him in dazed confusion. For it seemed to her that she was in the arms of an avenging angel, his eyes as bright as burnished stars and his hair crowned in silver against a background of flames. 

The last dream she had in this life had been of death but what had she awoken to? Hell or Paradise? But this wasn’t an illusion. The one who held her was of flesh and blood. She could feel his claws gripped to her and even taste the coppery residue of him upon her lips.

This was real. _He_ was real.

Izayoi gave out a cry of joyful recognition and relief that he smothered with a kiss then locked her in an embrace from which neither wanted to let go of. In silent, ardent jubilation, they held each other, not quite believing yet relieved at being reunited beyond the pale of the grave. 

“You came back.” He heard her say in his ear.

Unable to reply, he simply pressed his lips onto the side of her head and as her senses returned to her, she saw the arrows sticking from his shoulders.

Alarmed, she pulled away. “You’re wounded…” she was horrified and started to panic when she realized she didn’t have the baby. “Our son. Where is our son?”

“He’s here, right here,” the Inu no Taisho carefully took up the little bundle next to them and transferred it to her eagerly awaiting arms.

She fervently kissed the boy, deeply grateful, even though he was crying so fretfully. Something then swept over her and when she raised her eyes, she realized the Inu no Taisho had covered her with the firerat robe.

“Can you stand?” There was urgency in his voice.

She attempted to get on her feet but doubled over, nearly losing her hold on the baby had it not been for the Inu no Taisho’s speedy reaction to support her. A burst of clotted blood flowed from between her legs as the last of the afterbirth slid away. Pale and trembling, she clung to her husband’s arm as she clutched her son. Trying to take a breath, she only inhaled smoke causing her to go into a fit of coughing.

“Get on my back. I’ll carry you. Just keep holding the baby.” He could see she was struggling. He was about to grab her when he saw her raise her head and what little color there was left in her face drain away.

He turned and seeing what she was seeing, stood up at once.

This time, he unsheathed So’unga, traversing its grip from the back and into his hand.

Takemaru had followed him.

The wilfulness of humans, the Inu no Taisho thought in both wonder and resentment, was truly a thing to behold. Even with such a grievous injury and the manse falling apart all around them, the captain had still been determined to see his misguided quest to its end. He was here to kill them all. In his eyes, this was no family but a princess he still needed to save from the all-consuming clutches of two demons. The flames wreathed around them both as though they sensed the oncoming battle between the two. 

“Izayoi.” The Inu no Taisho kept his eyes on Takemaru. “Take the baby and go.”

“My love, don’t…!” Izayoi whispered in protest as she shakily rose from her place.

“Go now.”

“Not without you!”

“You can’t stay here, you have to get outside.” He raised his voice a little then, almost as if he wanted her to really hear him. “Take Inuyasha with you and run.”

Takemaru’s eyes narrowed. _Inuyasha?_

The Inu no Taisho moved to shield his wife and baby.

“My son’s name is Inuyasha.” He said and although the meaning was lost on Takemaru, it wasn’t for Izayoi. She heard the declaration amidst the flames and understood it exactly for what it was.

Inuyasha.

She looked down at the baby then at her husband. His name. He had given their son his birth name. But the joy was short-lived when she remembered where she was. In a burning building with a man seeking to end their lives and another who wanted to save them at all costs.

“Tōga, wait…” Izayoi’s throat tightened. _Don’t let this be it. This can’t be it._

“Izayoi,” the Inu no Taisho lowered his voice, “leave before it’s too late. When you get outside, run for the hills and don’t look back. I will find you there. We’ll be together, I promise. But you _must_ go now.”

Shifting their son in her arms, she took a step back, but momentarily heartened by the hope of his words and understanding that she could no longer afford to hesitate, she turned away and headed out of the burning room.

When the Inu no Taisho was sure that Izayoi had cleared off, he returned his full attention back to the captain.

“Why,” the captain’s fury was frightening, “won’t you leave her alone?”

He readied his blade with his remaining arm, breathing hard through the pain and sickening disorientation. Izayoi was still alive. Not only that, the child had been delivered and survived. What kind of devilry had the Inu no Taisho resorted to? Was his princess really her or was it a shade brought back from hell? He didn’t know and the confusion only angered him even more.

“ _Why_?!” He screamed as the fire seemed to shriek behind him.

“ _You fucking bastard..._ ” The demon’s voice cut through his murderous thoughts and when Takemaru regained focus, he saw the Inu no Taisho hold So’unga at the ready with both hands and by innate command, a snake-like specter of a dragon emerged from its blade. Its otherworldly howl sent chills down the captain’s spine as he heard what surely was his own death-rattle.

They charged at one another and met in singular collision, their blades crossing in a hateful matrix of steel and savagery.

Takemaru was a skilled swordsman but the Inu no Taisho was better, not by mere experience, but because he was fueled by more rage towards the man who had harmed his wife and son.

Violently, the demon pushed back, cutting off any chance of retreat. He unleashed all the pent up anger, striking Takemaru with blow after blow.

The captain felt the blood run out of him and knowing that his strength was flowing out by the seconds, in a wild frenzy, he threw himself into the fray. He slashed across, thinking his hit had met its target but was too slow to see So’unga’s blade coming from above.

It sliced through Takemaru’s armor, jaggedly cutting along the viscera and for the briefest moment, he almost didn’t register that he had been fatally struck.

His sword clattered to the floor.

Within seconds, the Inu no Taisho threw him against an inflamed wall and pinned him to it by the throat.

“Is this enough?!” The demon raged, his eyes seemed ablaze with vengeful fire. “Look around you! You destroyed her home. _You killed her._ You tried to take her child! _My child!”_

His claws closed over Takemaru’s neck.

“You didn’t even spare her father, did you?” snarled the Inu no Taisho. “I can still smell his blood on your hands.”

The captain’s eyes widened in shock. He struggled to release himself from the Inu no Taisho’s hold when without warning, a claw shot through his chest. With ease, it broke through cartilage and bone, smashing into the rib cage, going past his lungs, and straight for the heart.

He might have begged for mercy then. Instead, all that came up was defiance.

“...she deserved better than you.” Blood ran down Takemaru’s mouth as he spoke and felt the claw dangerously grip into the organ. “All you’ve done is bring destruction and death into her life.” His smile was bitter and contemptuous. “But I guess that’s what happens when a demon tries to love something it wasn't supposed to.” 

The beams above them groaned under pressure as the fires around became suffocatingly hot.

“ _She deserved better!_ ” Takemaru spat at him.

The Inu no Taisho crushed his heart, feeling it burst against his palm and as he withdrew his claw in disgust from the damaged sinew, the body fell forward into a slump and the roof above him finally gave way.

To fire and wreckage. 

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Snow drifted down as Izayoi stumbled onto a familiar path and scrambled to get away from the manse as far as possible. The firn had buried any recognizable signs of a trail but she knew from memory that this was the right way.

Long ago, she had played in these very hills as a child, looking for fallen nuts and seeds on the ground as her nursemaid trailed behind her in exasperation. She could not have imagined that she would use this route again in running for her life with a newborn in her arms.

Clutching the firerat robe around her to keep it from slipping, she turned her immediate attention to the baby who was wailing inconsolably. With one hand while the other cradled him along the length of her forearm, she tried to swaddle him again with the ragtag collection of sheets she had grabbed from her bedding. He squirmed dreadfully, going red in the face as she struggled to wrap him up and keep him from falling.

“It’s alright, my darling, it’s alright,” she kissed him but his cries persisted.

Fearing the cold was the reason for his distress, she loosened the top half of her robe and laid him on her chest. Quickly crisscrossing the fabric, she wound the sash around again into a tight knot. She could still feel the baby’s cries reverberate against her skin and tried to soothe him by rubbing his back.

The sounds of breaking wood and stone made her look behind her. 

She cried out in shock as she watched the roof of the main hall collapse into a pool of fire, sending plumes of smoke into the night.

_Tōga._

The last vestige of her strength finally gave out.

Her knees hit the snow as she watched in mute horror, unable to do anything. Somewhere in this wreckage was the Inu no Taisho and his very body was probably burning into ash right at this moment. Whatever breath left in her body simply went out of her.

The pain of Takemaru’s spear splintered her once more with vivid detail as she was brought low by wracking sobs. Tears coursed down her face as she held onto Inuyasha and rocked on her knees, burrowing herself further into ice. Her feet and hands were numb; she could hardly feel them but could not say the same for the agony that ripped through the rest of her body. All _this,_ for what? Because a distant, faceless emperor couldn’t accept that she had chosen someone else and in response, a legion of men and demons lost their lives. A childhood friend had gone mad and destroyed her family manse, taking his own life in the process. The man she loved had sacrificed himself.

In that moment, she wished she didn’t exist.

Her lips trembled then broke open to scream when suddenly—

Something grabbed her right around the waist and before she could register what was happening, she felt herself be lifted from the ground and heard an almighty roar. Terrified, her immediate thought went to the baby and she struggled wildly to keep whatever held her away from her son but its grip was tight. The wind was whipping around her like a cyclone, throwing up the ends of the firerat robe into her face as it seemingly carried her away.

Somewhere far and high.

She shut her eyes and grasped Inuyasha to her, hoping against hope that her arms were enough to shield him from whatever was to come for them.

Then before she knew it, her feet touched soft grass. It felt as if the world had righted itself again and the air immediately calmed into a temperate lull.

_What…?_

Her eyes flew open and to her astonishment, she found herself and the baby on a wooded plain lightly frosted by snow. Withered, dried leaves crunched underneath her bare feet and when she turned, she saw a magnificent forest of pine and cedar bordering the land. In the distance, to the west, she recognized the white silhouette of the Inu no Taisho’s palace. Her heart leapt at the sight and for a brief moment, she felt her sorrow lift. She may have lost her home but here was her true one, where she really belonged. Once her celestial prison and now, by some strange magic, the site of so many happy memories.

“....Izayoi….”

_That voice._

Crazed with joy, she spun around.

To her undying gratitude and ineffable relief, there was the Inu no Taisho lying at the foot of a hilly slope. Bloodied, battle-worn, and clearly exhausted, but alive. He was still alive.

She ran to him, breaking into a sob and crashed onto her knees as she threw her arms around his neck. Slowly, his hand rose to cradle the back of her head and he leaned forward to press a kiss on her brow, catching acrid smoke and the cold, metallic scent of winter. Her heartbeat was steady, devoid of irregular rhythm and without a trace of its haunting silence from hours earlier.

For the first time in his life, he thanked heaven in prayer for that alone.

They held each other close for what felt like eternity, both exhausted yet wonderfully happy that they were reunited again.

“You found us.” She whispered against his shoulder.

He reached for the ends of her black hair and let them lovingly slide off his fingers. “I had to bring you two home.” He murmured. “Where I knew you’d be safe.”

“Oh...” Izayoi broke apart from their embrace as Inuyasha started to whine.

“Let me see him.” The Inu no Taisho’s eyes went towards the wriggling baby in her arms. “Let me see our son.” He hoarsely asked.

With great care, she shifted the baby from her inner robes and brought him out. Turning Inuyasha to face his father, she gently placed him in the Inu no Taisho’s hold. The moment his tiny head was cupped by his hand, his cries subsided to a low whimper. Resting her temple against her husband’s cheek, she joined him in gazing down at their son and quietly marvelling over what they made.

“Thank the gods,” he smiled at beholding his baby properly for the first time, “he’s got your looks.” His finger lightly traced out the infant’s silvery hair. “And my coloring.”

“You really think he takes after me?” Izayoi said tremulously.

Enthralled, the Inu no Taisho touched the baby’s cheek, trying to memorize every single detail as he possibly could. Seeing the silver hair and golden eyes of his lineage filled him with pride. Recognizing Izayoi’s lovely cheekbones and exquisite jaw on the baby pleased him even more. He noted the ever so tiny claws growing in place of where nails would be on his little fists and laughed a little at the ears.

“Inuyasha.” He called to his son as the baby stared up at him somberly. Father and son looked at one another for a few moments then the baby turned his head, as if drawn by some physical discomfort, and screwed up his face as he let out another plaintive wail.

“He’s hungry,” the Inu no Taisho ruefully observed and grew cold when he remembered that this child would have perished unborn had it not been for his mother’s sacrificial courage. He knew Izayoi had been left entirely on her own without any support during the birth and could not bring himself to ask what she had done during those crucial moments.

If only he could have slaughtered Takemaru _twice…_

Hell could not be so vast of a landscape for the Inu no Taisho to find that sorry human in the netherworld and make him doubly pay.

“I haven’t fed him yet,” Izayoi stammered as she took the baby back. “I’m sorry, my love, I can’t get him to stop. He’s been crying like this since…” her voice faltered as she found herself unable to even mention the horror they had all left behind.

“Do it now, he shouldn’t wait.” The Inu no Taisho watched in mesmerized silence as Izayoi slipped off the firerat robe. Lying it on the ground, she gently lowered Inuyasha onto the scarlet folds. Unwrapping the front of her dress again and withdrawing a breast, she picked the baby up again and tried to get him to latch but it was not easy. He kept fretting, turning his little head this way and that as he clumsily rooted without success.

The Inu no Taisho became alarmed when he saw her wince and realized the baby’s claws had scraped her as his hands flailed about.

“Come here.” He beckoned. After he made sure she was comfortably situated next to him, he reached over and gently lifted the baby’s neck at a better angle. The effect was immediate. Izayoi let out a soft gasp as she felt the baby reach her at last and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw his cheeks puff out as he took in his first mouthful of milk. Smiling, she bent her head to kiss the top of Inuyasha’s head and it was then she noticed the Inu no Taisho’s bloodied claw gently curled over the baby’s fingers.

“Try to keep him still like this so he doesn’t hurt you.” The Inu no Taisho’s voice was low and tired.

“You’ve done this before.” Izayoi looked at him with a sad smile.

His eyes met hers. “Once, yes.”

Now that the baby was quiet, he turned back to the mother, cataloguing any injury he could find. There was still blood between her legs from the afterbirth but she wasn’t hemorrhaging and when he felt for her temperature, there was no fever which would have indicated infection. He checked again— twice to make sure—that the wound at her side was truly gone. The only sign anything was even there in the first place was a tear at the seam edged in wine-colored stains. He surveyed her hands to look for frostbite and mercifully there wasn’t any nor on her feet. Apart from extreme fatigue, she was in all respects, healthy.

The knowledge filled the Inu no Taisho such intense relief that he felt as though the weight of the universe had lifted off his shoulders. He leaned back, in quiet awe over Tenseiga’s enchantment and the mysteriously beautiful scene before him. They stayed close together, guardingly watching over their son as the silence of winter loomed around them.

When Izayoi sensed the baby had finished, she tied her robes back in place and shifted him onto her shoulder, wrapping him in his blankets as he snuggled into sleep at last.

Her concentration no longer divided, she looked to her husband and was startled by his pallor. He looked worse for wear. There were so many scrapes and cuts on him, she didn’t know where one began or ended. He had at least half a dozen broken arrows studding his shoulders, even one at the chest and his arm was bleeding very badly.

“You're hurt…” She swallowed hard at the shafts that stuck out. “We should go back to the palace. I can tend to you there. If I helped you, do you think we would be able to walk together?” She started to rise up when he reached for her hand and made her remain where she was.

“Izayoi,” he whispered.

“You can’t stay here.” She didn’t know why he was resisting and tugged at his sleeve to go, finding him strangely immobile, even lethargic. Concerned, she touched his cheek, finding it oddly cold, and tried to guide him to stand but he wouldn’t move.

Slowly, quietly, his eyes turned to look at her and when she saw the pained expression on his face, she didn’t know why but it inspired a terror unlike anything else she had experienced in her short lifetime.

Wordlessly, he loosened the front of his robe and parted it to expose his chest.

Her hand went over to her mouth.

Black blood flowed freely along a hideous, gaping wound that reached deep into the viscera and seeing that made her mind go blank. She tried, and failed, to cull something useful, _anything_ , from all the repository of medical knowledge she had but couldn’t come up with a single solution. Numbly, she first thought whether she should staunch it but when she started to fashion a tourniquet from her sash, he caught her wrist to stop her.

She stared down at his grip in disbelief.

The very act itself felt like a punch to the gut. A panic was fast rising in her now and her breaths became shallow when she began to realize what this meant. 

“Izayoi.” He reached over to cradle her cheek then traced her jawline to cup her chin, bidding her to look into his eyes.

She shook her head vehemently and in that instant, he knew she understood what he was trying to tell her but she didn’t want to hear it. Her fingers clenched around his wrist as her lips parted to speak but couldn’t and all the lovely planes of her face were now shadowed in anguish. Her breathing became very rapid; its pace quickening as her heart throbbed wildly under the oncoming throes of a panic attack.

“Izayoi, look at me.” His voice was taut with grief.

“We...we can fix this...it’s alright.” She was shaking like a leaf. “It’s only a little...it’s only a little blood...you’ll be alright. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Izayoi...please…”

“ _No, no!_ ” She suddenly cried out, startling the baby out of his sleep. “You can’t die! You can’t! _You can’t—!_ ”

She flung her other free arm around his neck and buried her face into his shoulder. The touch of his skin somehow made her sorrow even worse and she broke down completely, shattered by all that had happened and what was to come. The entire mass of her father’s death, losing her childhood home, being betrayed by Takemaru, and giving birth under such egregious circumstances finally hit her. She cried and sobbed uncontrollably, clinging to the Inu no Taisho with all the passion and fervor of a lover about to be separated. He shut his eyes tight as he wrapped his arms around her, using his hands to stroke her hair, her face, and bestowing as many kisses as he was able onto every part of her that his lips could reach.

Not even the pain of the dragon’s claw or the wounds he had sustained in battle could have compared to the hurt he felt in seeing the woman he loved suffer like this. It was more than he could bear.

“You promised! _You promised we’d be together._ ” She keened as her throat clogged up and she struggled to breathe in between her cries. “Inuyasha needs you. _I need you_.”

He lowered his face into hers, trying to kiss her tears away. “This is not how I wanted things to be for us or for our boy.” Her agony wrenched the truth out of him. “I want to stay with you too.”

“ _Then stay!”_ Her voice cracked.

The baby was whining now and she could feel him move his arms around the curve of her shoulder. Shuddering, she pulled away a little and tried to soothe Inuyasha again with one hand while the other remained tightly enclosed with her husband’s.

“You brought me back from the dead so why can’t you do the same for yourself? Can’t I save you?” In frantic desperation, she looked around but Tenseiga was nowhere to be found. Neither was Tessaiga. Or So’unga.

“Where are your swords….?” Her voice trembled in fear and confusion. “Where are they?” 

“I’m well past Tenseiga’s help.” He tried to comfort her even as he laid her low and reached over to blot off her tears with the back of his hand. Taking a breath, he willed himself to continue. “When I found you,” his heart almost stopped at the memory, “I used it to bring you back. I couldn’t just leave...I had to save you. I had to. But that grace is given but once.”

“I understand.” She said thickly.

“Do you?” He whispered.

“You used up your chance to extend my life to revive me.” Her tears continued to fall. “Which means I will be with our son for only a short while.”

She started to weep again, feeling torn apart by her inevitable losses and the lonely fate that awaited her son. Her dearest, precious son. Even after everything, Inuyasha was destined to become an orphan. Neither the Inu no Taisho nor she would ever get to see him grow up.

“I didn’t want him to be alone.” She sobbed.

“...neither did I.” The Inu no Taisho’s heart felt like it was breaking into a million pieces. He gazed at her in sorrow and tried to steel himself for the next part. “Do you remember what I told you about the swords?”

She nodded, unable to speak.

“My advisers will take care of everything for you on that front.” He gently explained and then started to tell her everything that she had to know because he would not be there to help her through it. The palace was hers now and he had ensured the protection spells would answer to her alone despite her humanity. Since Inuyasha was born under a new moon, he instructed her to keep him hidden away each month around that time when the demonic blood would revert and teach their son to _never_ reveal to anyone the reason why. Under no circumstances.

Tessaiga would go to their son when he reached his sixteenth year but until that time, it would be kept locked in his tomb and guarded within Hōsenki’s gift, a black pearl of unique properties. If Inuyasha wanted to learn how to wield the sword properly, he could look to Tōtōsai as his teacher. He did not bother to suggest that she rely on Sesshomaru or the demoness for guidance or assistance in any other matters because he knew that neither would give it. It was a sad, if not terrible fact but nonetheless true. 

When the Inu no Taisho thought he had covered what he needed to, his other hand went to pat the baby’s head, hoping the motion would calm him. 

“As for our son,” there was a strain of pride in his words, “he will have everything that is mine. My blood. My strength. My sword. My home. Whatever I had and loved will be his _._ ”

“What about his father?” Her despairing cry cut deep into him.

Overcome, he pulled her to him again so that he could enfold her in his arms with their son in between. She lay close to his side, her arm thrown across his chest as she buried her face in the crook of his neck. Mother and baby were now truly beside him on this deathbed that he had made in the snow field. His armor felt heavy and stiff, more deadweight than a seamless augmentation of his body. A baleful tiredness was creeping upon him fast and he knew that once he succumbed to this sleep, it would be final.

He ran his fingers through her hair in comforting gestures, all the while, keeping his hand close to his infant son whose cries had lessened to an occasional mewl. Together, both he and Izayoi cuddled and kissed their baby, trying to cram in a lifetime’s worth of love in the time left to them.

“Listen to me.” He murmured to her. “You are going to be all that Inuyasha has. Even if it’s only for a few years, you must live. You must live well. If not for me, for him.”

She curled up, distraught. “ _I can’t do this without you._ ”

“You have more courage and strength than you think.” He kissed her forehead and lovingly smiled down at her. “Our son lives because of you, my princess.”

His lips drew near to hers.

“You were the ever after I always wanted.”

Izayoi collapsed against him, no longer able to endure the weight of his love and her grief pitting against it.

“We can still have that,” she said in broken-hearted anguish as she tried to bargain with him and the gods, “we can be together. We can have the life and family we wanted. There’s...there's so many things I wanted to ask and learn from you, to do with you. So you can’t die. Not yet, not now. Please. Please don't leave me.”

He looked into her eyes with infinite tenderness and reached over to hold her perfect cheek in his hand. 

“I never knew I could love and want someone so much.” He whispered to her as she leaned in to kiss his palm. “You think existence simply ends at death but I've seen where souls go beyond this life. I’ve been there. So when I meet the gods again, I will ask them to show mercy and let me return to you someday.”

He pressed his forehead against hers and breathed her scent in.

“I will beg them for one more lifetime, where we can live as we were meant to. In peace, with a wonderful home like the one we shared and the children we didn’t get to have.”

Izayoi bowed her head, bearing down in total despair, but the Inu no Taisho bade her to look up and guided her lips back to his. They kissed for a long time, each drinking in the other with everything they had. To her immense sadness, she could taste blood in his mouth. When they broke away, slowly, reluctantly, it was like experiencing another kind of death in which both knew they had but a few minutes left in this world together.

Her fingers comfortingly reached over to the side of his face and lightly pressed off the impression of a tear.

“...this is the first time I’ve seen you cry.” Her lips grazed over his eyes as she thought he was in pain but instead, she heard his words brush against her ear.

“I’m terrified.” He admitted at last. He held her and the baby close to him as much as his remaining strength would allow. “...I’m terrified because I don't want to leave you.”

She clung on, not wanting to let go.

“ _I love you_.” She fervently murmured against his tears. 

He leaned away, just enough to look upon her face and the baby’s one last time. Even now, he could still find beauty and perfection amidst so much pain.

“With all I have,” he whispered, “and all that I am...I love you both.”

His head fell back and it seemed to him that the starry darkness had turned into a radiant blue where pink and purple flowers bloomed overhead, scattering their petals to the world below. He could hear Izayoi’s voice, transcending time and space, and feel her lips upon his. Her hair ran through his fingers as he felt her wrap her arms around him and at his next glance, it was as if she was walking with him in sunlight towards elysium.

“ _Izayoi...”_

In wonder and shock, she watched as his body became incandescent with soft light and gradually disintegrated from her hold into a million floating stars that encircled her like a moving night sky. They glittered past her, leaving the briefest imprint of warmth on her skin like a tiny kiss; each one seemingly containing a memory of sight, touch, taste, and scent that had been cherished in life. Ascending into the heavens, they melted into the celestial plains above, now part of a million other suns among innumerable galaxies.

She stared after them, even when she could no longer distinguish their light from the constellations and when the last particle left her grasp, she was left in darkness.

For one, long moment, she couldn’t breathe.

When she tried to at the next interval, she still couldn’t.

She tried again and again—and again—her breath had stopped— _why couldn’t she breathe_ —

Staggering, she let out a cry of terrible anguish.

Then falling forward onto her knees, as she clung to Inuyasha, she doubled over as her face bent low to the ground where the frosted leaves were still stained with the Inu no Taisho’s blood.

The stars above bore witness to her grief-stricken screams and could only send their cold, sympathetic light to the most beautiful woman in the kingdom, who was now bereft of the demon she had grown to love.

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	11. Drifting Flowers From the Sky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a very minor spoiler of Yashahime in this chapter, which has been slightly adaptated to fit the latest episode (as of Nov 2020). The poem enclosed is part of an opening lyric translated from Mandarin to English in "I've Arrived Because of You" by Yuan Ya-Wei.

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**Part XI: Drifting Flowers from the Sky**

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_Artist Credit: Unknown_

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The moment the sun dared to rise the following morning and turn its crimson face to the world as if it was ashamed, the demoness knew.

Rendered into total silence, she took her seat on her throne, doing and saying nothing but wait. When Sesshomaru joined her sometime later, neither spoke as they watched the blood-red skies together.

At long last, a messenger from the Inu no Taisho’s palace arrived, clad in black, then stepped up to the main hall and confirmed what she had suspected all along. She listened from beginning to end so she could get exact details as Sesshomaru had not been forthcoming since his return. How the battle had gone. The deaths of the phoenix and tortoise by the dragon’s hand. The Inu no Taisho using all he had to seal away Ryūkotsusei—

Her hands balled into fists in anger that it had not been a killstrike. Indeed, the situation must have been critically dire for her first mate, renowned for his herculean strength, to have been reduced to such a paltry move.

Then he left the front…

Here, the demoness threw a sidelong glance to Sesshomaru. This was the part of the story he had not been able to tell her. Everything else after that point was a mystery.

“...died in the arms of the princess.” The messenger sadly concluded with a weighty sigh.

For what felt like an exceptionally long time, neither the demoness nor Sesshomaru made any attempt at a response. The messenger continued to kneel and kept his head bowed low, taking their absence of speech for shock.

Finally, the demoness stood up.

“That stupid fool,” she gently cursed under her tongue.

_You told me you wouldn’t disappoint me, Tōga...I should’ve known better than to have trusted you._

She looked to Sesshomaru, wondering how he was taking this in but his face evinced nothing. The lack of any expression whatsoever surprised her a little. She had known all along that he had favored the Inu no Taisho and that her son had spent much of his youth idolizing his father, in the hope of eclipsing him one day. Given the circumstances she had expected a modicum of sadness at the very minimum.

But there was nothing. Just...nothing.

“I beg your forgiveness, Lady Mother, for being the one who brought you this terrible news.” The messenger sycophantically apologized only to draw the demoness’ ire.

“Don’t call me that!” She snapped.

“But…” the messenger was befuddled. “...with all due respect, now that his lordship is gone, that makes you the dowager Lady Mother. Doesn’t it...?”

“Of all the titles I deserve, it would seem that the Inu no Taisho left me the worst one.” She was extremely vexed and wanted to dash the cretin against a wall for his insolence even though he was right. Lady Mother was in fact the proper respect she was due but it didn’t mean she liked it. There was an implication of old age in the address, a certain kind of uselessness that suggested her time was at an end. That she was no longer capable of accomplishing anything worthwhile and fulfilling her own ambitions.

She began to pace on the dais, trying and failing to get used to her new reality.

“How does the princess and her child fare?” She suddenly asked, prompting the messenger to look up in surprise and startling Sesshomaru out of his reticence.

At the very mention of Izayoi, even though he was but a lowly demon who held little regard for humans like the rest of his kind, his eyes involuntarily welled up.

In halting tones, he retold how the staff had found her that very night in a catatonic state, along with the baby in the fields that bordered the palace. The Inu no Taisho’s blood was still on the snow and when they tried to move her from the spot, she fell into such an intense paroxysm of anguish that it took them a very long time to convince her to return with them.

“She is extremely unwell.” The messenger admitted as he came to the end of this sorry tale. “Hardly sleeps or eats at all but we are doing our best to help her recover. The young master is healthy and robust as can be, thank the gods.” He added.

“I certainly hope so, considering that your lord gave up his life for their sakes.” The demoness coldly commented.

The messenger fell silent out of embarrassment.

She turned her gaze to the heavenly plain of rosy gold clouds that surrounded her palace. “I suppose you’re expecting some sort of reply from me but I won’t be giving any. None of my household will go into mourning either. I hate black. It’s a detestable color and ruins anything it comes into contact with.”

The messenger was so stunned by her callousness that he had no idea how to respond. 

“What? Should I be heartbroken by this?” The demoness noted his reaction. “But how can I be when his heart was never mine and mine was never his?” Her smile was cruel but mask-like and she would not allow it to slip. Maybe on some night, when she was alone, she could let the pretence drop and come to grips with this. There would be no tears but plenty of wine and regret.

“Now go.” She dismissed him without so much as an afterthought and didn’t bother to watch him retreat away in confusion.

Long after the messenger had gone, she regarded Sesshomaru with curious expectancy. “Do you care to say anything?”

Her son looked askance.

“Well?”

“What else is there to say? He made his choice. It’s only right that he lies in the bed he made.” 

She raised a brow. “You think he died in vain?”

“His last fight was with a human.” Sesshomaru’s eyes were cold and empty. “His last deed was for a human. All humans. Did he have no pride? Where is the glory in any of that? It was a pathetic, miserable death.”

In a sudden and uncharacteristic fit of pique, the demoness walked over and struck him across the face.

The slap rang throughout the hall like a discordant note of music that kept resonating as Sesshomaru felt the sting of it spread throughout his cheek.

“Your father overthrew a dragon,” her voice was like ice, “and dedicated the last of his strength to protect his family. As far as I’m concerned, that’s the best kind of death that any of us could hope for. Even you.”

They both stood apart from one another, separated not just by the distance between them but an even greater rift that would not be lessened in time or understanding. They were well past that now. 

“You would do well to remember the lessons your lord father taught you,” she frostily reminded him, “if you wish to be the next guardian of the west and commander-general.”

Sesshomaru raised his eyes. “I don’t.”

“You’re refusing to take his place?”

“I want to be more than what he was.”

The demoness regarded him with clinical disinterest. “By all means, try, although you won’t get very far with that attitude of yours. Your father was the strongest of our line. It will take everything you have to attain even half of his strength so you had better work fast. Now that Ryūkotsusei is sealed and your father is gone, Kirinmaru will take over the east. The west will need a most worthy successor to counteract that vile creature.”

“Then find one.” Sesshomaru was impassive. “But it will not be me, Mother, for I intend to walk my own path to achieve greatness.”

“Greatness…?” The demoness repeated. A slow, awful smile crept upon her lips. “Very well. If that’s what you want, who am I to stop you? Since you are so determined to make your way on your own terms, from this moment on, I withdraw my support. You will get _nothing_ from me. None of my armies will ever seek your allegiance. None of my wealth will ever pass into your hands and neither my palace nor your father’s shall revert to you. Tenseiga is to be your only birthright.”

She felt a smug satisfaction when she saw her son’s expression slip to reveal the barest hint of confusion.

“That’s right, you heard me. Tenseiga, not Tessaiga, is the sword your father bequeathed to you.”

It was clear that this was not at all what Sesshomaru had expected. The entire situation was incomprehensible. Why was he, the eldest and only purebred offspring from the Inu no Taisho, given a sword that could not even be used?

“But So’unga…” he began only to be stopped by his mother’s interruption.

“Oh, that won’t be yours.” She was quick to refute the idea. “Neither is Tessaiga. Your father made that expressly clear.”

_Father._

Inadvertently, his mind went back to that wretched snowy night. So, was this his lord father’s response to that unanswered question?

_Is there nothing in this world you would want to protect?_

What should have been the beginnings of a magnificent takeover ended in a coastal manse that was burned down into ash along with all the hopes and dreams of an empire. They had enjoyed victory for only a few short hours before everything had reversed on them. If only the Inu no Taisho had simply done what he had asked! If he hadn’t dropped their momentum and remained with his army or sought aid for his wounds, perhaps he could have lived.

All because of that repulsive woman and her damned son…

“Did it ever occur to you,” the demoness’ voice floated by his ear, “that if you had gone with him or tried to help, you might have been able to save him? Imagine what a difference that would have made.”

Mother and son gazed at one another.

Her countenance was a still, blank canvas before it relaxed into its familiar look of cool regardlessness. “Well, it doesn’t matter now.” She said softly. “I suppose I could always ask your little brother, when he’s old enough, to step in where your father once stood. Even if he is only a half-demon.”

She could see that this insulted him and was glad.

Good.

He deserved it.

“You have such a talent for causing trouble and the _worst_ headaches for me,” she swept down to walk along the gallery, “but such is my folly for having a wayward son. Perhaps you’ll understand your poor mother’s feelings when you become a father one day. I hope your children don’t disappoint you as much as you have disappointed me, Sesshomaru.”

She continued on her own without taking so much as a glance backward. With a singular destination in mind, she went to the farthest end of her palace where its gilded edges dropped off into a spill of clouds.

The balcony here looked out into an infinite expanse of the red heavens and a bleeding sun. Not even the birds flew at this height. Instead, there was only a holy silence that no earthly sound could break. Quietly, her hand slipped into her robes and took out the Meido stone from its silken depths. The pearls rolled in her hands as she held the jewel between them, watching the flecks of afternoon sunlight disappear into its black orbit.

“What a damn mess you’ve left behind, Tōga.” She murmured.

She lowered her beautiful head, slipping the grand necklace over it and let it come to a rest right at the center of her heart. It weightily hung there like a cold orb. Dark but beautiful, terrible yet great.

It was the final legacy left to her by her first mate and apart from their son, this was all that remained between them.

_I will_ never _forgive you for this..._ she thought as her gaze went from the stone and levelled on the empty crimson sky.

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_Hereafter_

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Winter passed. When spring came again, all Izayoi could think of was how grey the world had become.

Grey skies, grey mourning clothes.

The weather remained cool but the garden’s verdure returned in tendrils of green and fragile buds just beginning to peek through the branches of the trees.

Unmoved, she looked upon nature’s early offerings with indifference and turned away from them. It was extraordinary that the world could still go on its orbit and flowers would continue to bloom even though he was dead.

_He_ was dead.

She would never see him again in this life, hear his voice, know what he thought, understand what he felt, or be able to touch or hold him.

And it destroyed her.

For months, she rarely ventured out of the main pavilion, sequestering herself and the baby deep within its recesses. If she could have shut out the mere experience of existing like she did with her doors, she would have. Nothing, not even the sunlight, could coax her out. Her grief was pulled in so many directions. For her husband, her father, the guardians of the north and south who had fallen in battle, the men who died in the east. Her rooms went untouched for she would not allow anything to be changed, preferring to keep things as the Inu no Taisho had left them. On days when it was too much, and that was often, she would wrap herself in one of his clothes and crawl into bed. Breathing in his lingering scent, she clung to the fabric and cried herself to sleep, desperately hoping that when she would wake up, she’d find him next to her. 

There were times when she wondered if any of it had been real.

If it all had been some fantastical nightmare-dream and she would awaken in bed at her old room, having never been asked by the emperor to be his fourth consort and not crossing paths with the guardian of the west. In sleep, the cruel memory of the happiness she had briefly known would be momentarily taken from her but then she would panic and rise up in the middle of the night, choking on her own breath. She would then stumble out of bed and rush over to the cradle where, to her relief, she found Inuyasha still sleeping. Seeing her baby simultaneously crushed her with the love she bore for him and the knowledge that yes, it hadn’t been a dream. Everything actually happened. She really had been loved by the Inu no Taisho and he had paid for it with his life.

The worst part was that she knew it was her all fault.

Perhaps the intense, acute pain she felt from her loss was but one of many atonements for her crime, that was what she started to believe. Then came a wave of abandonments.

The first betrayal arrived when news of the Inu no Taisho’s passing spread and his armies subsequently broke apart, no longer held by the respect and fear of their great commander. Many went over to other _daiyōkai_ who they thought could match their predecessor. Others joined up with the demoness herself. A few even reached out to Sesshomaru although no one was quite sure how successful that was, as the Inu no Taisho’s eldest son was making it known that he preferred to work alone.

The second followed by almost all of the demon refugees, vassals, even the guards leaving the palace in droves, no longer considering it safe and secure now that its guardian was gone. A human princess and her _hanyō_ infant could not possibly even come close to the Inu no Taisho’s level as a protector anyway.

Only a few consolations were left to her. Apart from Inuyasha, who was the joy of her heart, some friends and staff had remained loyal to her. If not, for the memory of her husband.

As a sign of respect and testament to the friendship he shared with the late guardian, Hōsenki opted to stay in order to add his powers onto the protection spells already tied within the palace walls. Deeply stunned by the turn of events and feeling incredibly guilty for his accidental contribution to it, the hermit was duty-bound more than ever to look after the princess. He had also seen to it that the Inu no Taisho’s grave was locked into the black pearl and magically embedded in Inuyasha’s iris. The latter part had taken weeks to accomplish as Izayoi was deeply unwilling to let the baby be anywhere out of her sight. She had to be persuaded multiple times with iron-clad assurances that Inuyasha would not experience any harm or pain before she finally agreed to let Hōsenki complete the enchantment to secure the sepulchre.

For a time, he and Tōtōsai took turns in visiting Izayoi, keeping her informed about what was happening outside her pavilion-turned-hermitage. They were the ones who let her know, two months later, that the emperor had passed away in an epidemic that was raging in the capital. He was just twenty-eight years old. Having been on the chrysanthemum throne for less than three years, he had achieved nothing and failed to leave any kind of lasting legacy. Including children. His old court was broken up. The empress became a cloistered dowager and the other two consorts were swiftly relegated into obscurity. By some accident and perhaps out of the obsessive affection the emperor had borne for her, Izayoi’s rank and title were kept intact. Regardless of the fact that he had forcefully conferred them upon her. Now that he was dead, on a technicality, she was a dowager too.

When Tōtōsai, without thinking, inferred that she had the right to go into mourning for the emperor as well, Izayoi abruptly stopped the conversation and coldly retreated back into her pavilion where she contended with her anger.

Mourn for the emperor? A man whom she had never set eyes on or met? The person who had started this entire thing in the first place and sent the dragon who had killed her husband? The very suggestion was deeply offensive.

She wished countless times that he had never selected her as a princess-consort and yes, there were less-than-charitable moments when she hoped he would die. These days, she was finding that her wishes were becoming morbidly true. Hadn’t she once wished that she would return home? She could never have dreamed up the very circumstances that led her to it or the consequences that followed.

There was to be a new emperor, of course, but she did not dare reach out to him or the regent. It would have been better if they thought she had died that winter night and just leave it at that.

She certainly _felt_ dead these days and had it also not been for Myōga’s diligence, she would have stopped caring for herself entirely. It was he who insisted she finish her meals instead of sending them away and urged her to go on daily walks in the garden with the baby in tow.

“You must look after your health,” Myōga drummed into her daily, “or the young lord won’t thrive.”

That was enough for her to lift a spoon up to her lips and step outside with Inuyasha wrapped in her arms. Declining Myōga’s offer to have the baby sent to the nursery where the sprites could look after him, she kept him with her. In spite of her deep depression, she did everything for Inuyasha in those early days, beyond what most royal mothers did. She bathed, changed, nursed, and played with him, even going so far as to cook his meals from scratch and embroidering his shirts by hand.

Every day brought a new, thrilling lesson about her enchanting child. She learned his preferences, studied his moods, and reflected on the shapings of his personality. Every progress, like when he turned over on his own or held a spoon in his fat fist without dropping it, was a delight for her. He was a remarkably alert and active infant, who watched everything around him with wide-eyed interest. She was proud of his fast development, marvelling how rapidly he learned to sit up and crawl.

Slowly, steadily, with Inuyasha, she began to step back into life.

When he walked for the first time on his own two feet without help, her elation was such that for the briefest moment she forgot her grief. But as she lifted up her baby in her arms to kiss him, even when Inuyasha happily squealed under her tickling hands, loneliness struck her again.

The Inu no Taisho’s absence in that momentous occasion felt so tangible, it left her feeling beaten by terrible pangs of regret. Depression followed, like a devoted attendant that crept close and robbed her of whatever motivation she had, leaving her paralyzed. Then she felt an oncoming panic attack and all progress she made in the day was dismantled.

He wasn’t here.

He wasn’t here to share this with her and wouldn’t be for a lot of other things. He had already missed out on many of Inuyasha’s firsts, soon to be all. The first smile. The first laugh. The first, tiny fang that sprouted out of the baby’s gums. The first word (Mama). The first new moon.

When it came upon her, she was shaken by the drastic change in her baby’s appearance, so much that she almost didn’t recognize her own son. His silver hair blackened into ebony and all the gold disappeared into a deep brown as the demon blood faded off for the night. But when she saw him turn to look at her, she realized this _was_ Inuyasha. As he would have looked, had his father been human. She could not sleep that night and anxiously watched over him, knowing his mortality made him all the more vulnerable. After dawn, her baby’s hair lightened back as did his eyes and he looked none the wiser that any physical change had occurred. But true to her promise to the Inu no Taisho, she was extremely careful to keep their son away from anyone each month which was fairly easy to do in seclusion.

She was a mother now and mothers couldn’t afford to break down because their babies needed them. So, in effect, caring for Inuyasha became a saving grace and little by little, she drew strength from it.

The seasons changed as did her newborn, into a sweet bumbly baby to a very energetic one-year-old. He adored play, especially being chased around, and could be found waddling up and down the galleries of the palace at any given time, shrieking with laughter as the sprites or Myōga hurried after him.

Izayoi liked nothing more than to indulge Inuyasha in these games, romping around with him in the gardens and taking him on short hikes in the nearby woods where she taught him the names of all the different trees that grew there. At night, she would read to him from picture scrolls of folktales and although he did not understand the words, he listened as he snuggled next to her body and would stretch out his tiny hands to smack his palms against the painted scenes.

She had loved the Inu no Taisho with all her soul and found that love to expand in infinite widths for Inuyasha. How she cherished this vivaciously handsome and wonderful boy, who in turn adored his mother who he thought was as beautiful as the moon. In fact, he often mistook her for it in his childish imagination, because of her black hair, pale skin, and the long, dark robes she wore. He had never seen her in any other color apart from the mourning grey and black. But others at the palace remembered there had been a time when she had been dressed far less severely, looking breathtaking in raiments as scintillating as the stars, elegant as the moon, and radiant as the sun. When she used to smile and walk among flowers, hand-clasped with the Inu no Taisho.

For her, that time was long past but there were some who didn’t think that was the case at all.

One cold autumn day, Izayoi was in her room going over accounts at her writing desk. Inuyasha was asleep in her bed for his afternoon nap, safely tucked into his blankets. He had been teething all throughout the fall and was prone to crying snits because of the pain. Her own sleep consequently deteriorated as she spent hours at night alternating between cradling him in her arms, letting him suck on a bit of ice, or nursing him.

Over a gradual period of time, she had become increasingly involved in managing the palace which helped her focus on something productive. It was easier now that many of the vassals had gone. On the flip side, she had greater stores and less expenses to deal with since the household was smaller. She was about to peruse some letters when she heard the tell-tale soft padding of little feet scuttling into her study.

Looking up, she saw a larger-than-usual crowd of the sprites come up to her. With their tiny stubs for hands, they were carrying in what looked like a very large wooden box, beautifully polished and engraved with mother-of-pearl. Trailing right behind them was a thoroughly disgruntled Myōga.

“What is it?” Izayoi stopped what she was doing. Out of habit, she glanced at Inuyasha to see how he was before she rose up and quietly slid the panel doors of the bedchamber to a close. Turning back to her visitors, she knelt down so she could see them better.

“I’m sorry for the intrusion, my lady,” Myōga shot an annoyed glance at the sprites, “but _they_ insisted.”

“Whatever for?”

Myōga shuffled on his feet. “Well, it seems that the sprites wanted to give you a birthday present. _Even though,”_ and here, he crossed his arms, “I told them you specifically asked that you didn’t want anything done for it. They wouldn’t listen to me anyway.”

“You shouldn’t have.” Izayoi gently smiled at the sprites. “It’s very kind of you to think of me, but Myōga was right. I just…” she trailed off, looking sad and unable to further elaborate as to why she didn’t feel like celebrating anything at all.

“Now you’ve done it.” Myōga rounded on them. “You upset her ladyship.”

“No, no, they haven’t,” Izayoi hastily interceded as the sprites quivered in worry. Seemingly encouraged by her assurance, they crowded around her knees and brought the box closer to her before setting it down on the floor.

Curious, she shifted the lid away to reveal leaflets of vellum.

“....what is this?”

She withdrew what turned out to be a fine collection of drawings and brush paintings. There must have been hundreds of them, in fact. Astonished, she spread them out to see a multitude of subjects, all done with masterful skill. The vast majority of them were landscapes but there still lifes and detailed sketches too. Her eyes went through the dreamlike sceneries of sylvan temple ruins, vast plains, flowered meadows, serene coastlines, and snow-capped mountainscapes. Some she discerned as familiar but many others depicted places she had never seen before but had read about in her books. 

“You little robbers!” Myōga accused the sprites as his eyes bulged out in surprise. “ _Where_ did you get these?!”

The sprites huddled together but looked back at him in collective defiance as they replied in their curious language.

Confused and unable to understand them, Izayoi looked to Myōga for an explanation.

“These are his lordship’s personal drawings.” He shook his head in deep disapproval at the sprites. “Apparently, they found them hidden in the library and wanted to give them to you as a gift. They thought he’d want you to have them.”

“These belonged to Tōga?” She said in a small voice. Her fingertips ran along the strokes of ancient colors. Verdigris, lapis, indigo, ochre, vermillion, madder, azure, gilt, umber, lime white, and the ubiquitous ink. “...he drew these himself?”

“Yes, he did.” Myōga confirmed. “When he was younger, his lordship liked to paint and was very good at it as you can see for yourself but he gave it up many years ago.”

“I didn’t know he liked to paint. He never told me...I never knew.” Izayoi’s hands trembled with emotion as she gazed upon the many works around her. His very hands had held a brush to these. His own thought had guided each stroke with careful precision and design. His eyes had seen what it had wanted to see and commit on paper. To have something like this of his was worth more than all the castles in the world put together.

“Thank you…” She whispered to the sprites, to which they responded by jumping up and down on their little stumps. Then they went into the box and started rifling through it until finding what they were looking for, they brought it out to her for view.

When she saw what they wanted her to see, her heart constricted.

It was a singularly beautiful portrait of a woman standing near a pond filled with luminescent white lotuses. Another one, of the same subject, featured her kneeling over a koto with her hands just floating above its strings. A third showed the woman arrayed in crimson bridal robes and golden flowers woven into her hair, smiling on her wedding day. There were at least a dozen more, each one a scene of perfect tranquility and indescribable loveliness. None were dated but she knew they had been done recently and she remembered, just from one look, when it was because she had been there. She had lived through these captured moments.

Because the woman was her.

Tears ran down Izayoi’s cheeks and taking the drawings into her arms, she held them tight to her chest.

For a long while, she could not speak and when she finally looked up, she saw that the sprites had brought in a second box which she recognized instantly. She watched them open it and sift out, with great care, the pastel silks of a twelve-layer robe.

This had been the last gift the Inu no Taisho had given her before he had left for the east.

“I can’t.” She quietly sobbed as she shook her head and couldn’t bear to look at the dress. She hadn’t seen it in months. It had been banished into some dark room and she had intended it to never put it on. She didn’t believe she deserved it in the first place so how could she possibly wear this now? These robes had been meant for a happy princess awaiting the return of her king. But she was a young widow and widows like her wore black and grey.

The sprites were persistent and carried over the robes even closer to her anyway, trailing the pretty silks across her knees. They imploringly stared up at her with deep empathy.

“They are saying that his lordship picked this out with your favorite colors in mind.” Myōga gruffly translated, saddened by Izayoi’s tears and exasperated with the sprites for making her cry in the first place. “They thought you would feel a little happier if you tried it on instead of sticking to mourning clothes.”

“I’m not sure I’m ready.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hands.

“Of course, of course,” Myōga nodded in understanding even though he knew the traditional forty-nine day mourning period had long past. A little over a year had now gone after the Inu no Taisho’s death yet his princess continued to wear black in his memory. Grief however was not beholden to time. Sometimes, the loss of a loved one was so back-breakingly painful that it took people years to recover. In some instances, they never did and the flea-demon feared that Izayoi would be one of those wretched few.

The sprites then chittered something back, which irritated Myōga even more. He didn’t want to say anything but when Izayoi looked at him inquiringly, he felt forced to make his interpretation aloud.

“The sprites would like you to know that they will leave the robes with you and when you do feel ready, they will be here to help you put them on and look your best as they’ve always done.”

She looked down at all of them, these little fruit and vegetable spirits whose colorful faces stared back at her expectantly.

Then, lowering her head, in deep gratitude, she kissed the tops of each and every one.

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By Inuyasha’s second birthday, Izayoi was forced to reckon with another loss.

“That’s how things are after war,” Tōtōsai summed it up for her when he came by on a summer afternoon. Because the weather was so hot, they were sitting at one of the fishing pavilions closest to one of the garden lakes. Inuyasha had been brought outside and was dozing off in his bassinet. A very pretty display of fruit and crystal bowls of shaved ice sweetened in syrup had been laid out on the balcony with Izayoi presiding over the servings.

“Everybody wants a piece of something. They all want to be a winner.” He said, accepting a dessert from her. “Loyalty doesn’t amount to very much.”

“Then I am all the more grateful to you, Myōga, and Hōsenki for yours.” She smiled. “You three have been very good to us.”

Tōtōsai looked at her with great sympathy then patted her hand in affection. He peered about their surroundings. “Where are those two anyway?”

“Myōga is checking something for me in the kitchens and Hōsenki is at the other lake.” Izayoi apologized for the absences. “Would you like me to fetch them?”

“No, no, they’ll hear it soon enough,” Tōtōsai shook his head, “it’s more important that I speak to you.” He paused. She looked almost saintly today, in all white, with her black hair gracefully combed back with pearls. Her luminous, dark eyes were fixed in calm repose as they gazed out at the cool blue water. Inwardly Tōtōsai sighed to himself. Was it any wonder that the Inu no Taisho lost his mind over such beauty and sweetness?

“As you know, your husband’s campaign fell apart after he sealed Ryūkotsusei. Since then, all the western territories have been broken up and other demons have laid their claims to them.” Tōtōsai laid out the facts. “The whole island is a mess now. The demon Kirinmaru has taken over the east. The north and south are still defenseless. Sesshomaru refused to become the next guardian and as Inuyasha is just a baby, that leaves very few options left on the table.”

She said nothing, only to reach over to where her son was sleeping and stroked his ears.

“Hōsenki is strong but he’s no guardian and certainly won’t be able to match up against other _daiyōkai._ What all this means for you is that the west is not safe anymore...and you must leave the palace.” Tōtōsai was regretful.

Izayoi withdrew from the baby to look around her surroundings. She took in the gardens, the lakes and their rock grottoes, the magnificent pavilions interconnected by graceful galleries, the granite terraces overlooking the skies, and the alabaster stone courtyards. All of this had been constructed by the Inu no Taisho and hallowed by his magic. There had been so many memories made within its walls and in a way, her life had begun here.

This was meant to have been her home with Tōga and their family.

Now it was to be taken away, just like the rest of her dreams had been.

“Hōsenki’s barrier and the protection spells in the palace are no longer adequate for what may come. Sooner or later, someone is going to make a breach and they won’t care who the palace belonged to or about anyone who remains in it. They will kill you and your son.”

Izayoi paled at how matter-of-factly the swordsmith spoke, which prompted her to question, “Who is coming?”

“I’ve heard rumors that the Tiger has been eyeing the palace for himself. Even Kirinmaru, yes.” Tōtōsai acknowledged. “Believe me, no one is a fan of either one.” He added to try to soften things.

“How much time do you think I have left?”

“I’d give it a few months. Best start thinking about arrangements, princess.”

A few months? Mentally, her mind went through the grim math. If given two to three, she would need to sort out what to take with her and close out all her other affairs. The palace stores were replenished regularly by its vast estate which included acres of rice land and other basic crops. A bushel of rice could support her and the baby for a month so she would need twelve for an annual supply. Multiplied by years, the total sum could escalate to the worth of an entire rice field.

The Inu no Taisho had also left her stores of gold. Stolen, no doubt over the centuries through indifferent plunder. Because of this, she had scrupulously avoided using that particular source of income, largely preferring to pay for any expenses by bartering other palace goods that she judged to have been “ethically sourced” although admittedly, much of it was guesswork. There were countless luxuries that might be sold off but she couldn’t possibly take it all with her as that would hinder ease and ability of escape. Perhaps she could use her jewels which were as highly transferable as any currency and easy to break up into smaller bits if she needed to.

Concerning the gold, Izayoi’s first thought had been to send the majority of it to Sesshomaru as he was her husband’s eldest child. But when she let others be aware of her intention, she received a curt message from the demoness herself who ordered her not to give Sesshomaru anything on the grounds that he would view the offer as demeaning charity, rather than a gesture of goodwill. Myōga, Hōsenki, and Tōtōsai also concurred with the demoness’ assessment, telling Izayoi that she would only upset Sesshomaru even more than he already was and provoke him into doing something dangerous so she reluctantly dropped her plan.

“Is there anywhere you can go, my lady?” Tōtōsai looked at her with his extremely large eyes.

“I have an aunt, my father’s elder sister,” she said haltingly, “she is the closest relative I can think of who is still alive and might be able to let me stay with her. She has a manor in a nearby province.”

“Only an aunt?” He was worried. “You don’t have any other siblings or cousins?”

“My brothers and sisters died young. As for my other relations, they are far too grand and imperious to be concerned with me.”

“But your family is the ruling clan!”

“I’m from a very minor branch.” She said in modest tones. “None of my immediate forefathers were ever made regent nor were their daughters chosen as empresses.”

“Do you think this aunt will take you in _with_ Inuyasha?” Tōtōsai asked warningly.

“I’m trying to think of how to convince her but I haven’t quite figured out what to say.” Izayoi admitted.

“Well, you could always lie.”

She looked at him questioningly.

“You can tell your aunt that the Inu no Taisho kidnapped you, which he technically did,” Tōtōsai pointed out, “and claim he forced himself on you. You could also say you were freed after his death and had no choice but to take responsibility for the child since there was no one else.”

“No,” she felt her chest tighten painfully at these falsehoods, “no, I could never say that about him. Then people would really believe he was...when he wasn’t…” Her throat closed up but she fought to speak. “....Tōga wasn’t a monster.”

“No, his lordship wasn’t,” Tōtōsai acknowledged in a gentle voice, “but you have to come up with a story that will persuade your aunt to keep Inuyasha with you. Children like him are neither welcome in the demon nor human world.”

Some weeks later, that was exactly what Izayoi did.

With difficulty, she penned a letter to her aunt, first letting her know that she was alive and second, she needed shelter for herself as well as her son. In careful phrases but deliberate terms, she purposefully kept her son’s paternity vague and emphasized more on the benefits her aunt would gain with the proposed arrangement by promising a handsome annuity. But after sending, weeks went by without a reply and when Izayoi’s second inquiry was met with silence again, she had to resort to a truly fantastical lie and high-handedness.

Izayoi reminded her aunt that as she was a former imperial consort, given her rank, she had every right to lay claim to the family property. Furthermore, she falsely added, the new emperor and regent had been informed of her aunt’s regrettable lack of a response which they had taken as a sign of disrespect.

_I should not have to tell you that as I am still your princess, your conduct is unacceptable to His Majesty and His Excellency,_ Izayoi had haughtily written.

That finally did the trick and less than two days later, she received a cold but affirmative reply from her aunt that she and her son could come live with her.

Having secured this, Izayoi spent her last months at the palace to settle all outstanding items and ensure that the sprites were comfortably situated elsewhere, where they would be safe. She became so preoccupied that in between looking after Inuyasha and emptying the household during that time, she forgot to even feel sad that she was being forced out of her own home. Inuyasha, who barely understood what was going on around him, nonetheless got caught up in the whirlwind of activity. Amused, he bumbled around, watching Myōga bounce from room to room who shouted orders at the sprites as they were busily boxing things up in cypress chests.

Much to Myōga’s dismay and Tōtōsai’s disapproval, Izayoi gave away the bulk of the Inu no Taisho’s gold in the form of anonymous donations to temple orphanages all around the island. Her one stipulation was that these monetary gifts be used to care for any children whose parents had been killed in the wars between the guardians. Only Hōsenki was indifferent to the financial loss, as money meant very little to him as a hermit, and merely commented that it was a testament to the Inu no Taisho’s good judgement in choosing such an altruistic princess for a wife.

The three however were able to persuade her to retain a modest reserve so it could be used for Inuyasha’s upkeep until he became an adult. It was then packed up along with bags of rice and other goods that she intended to use for the annuity that she promised her aunt. All of Inuyasha’s clothes along with her own, the fire rat robe, and the many fine toys that Tōtōsai had made for him fit in a single wardrobe chest.

After long consideration, she decided to keep one of the Inu no Taisho’s robes with her as a memento, a grey-blue silk stitched with very subtle hints of gilt thread that had brought out the color of his eyes beautifully. All of his paintings were safely stored away for her to take with her and when she went into his library, she selected the medicinal manuscripts he had given her as keepsakes.

On the day of her departure, Izayoi deliberately woke up early before the baby so she could use her final morning at the palace to prepare herself.

Esconcing into her privy chamber, she bathed and changed into her undergarments. When she seated herself before her mirror, she took out her powder brushes and was hit with melancholy as she gazed at her pale reflection, thinking about the time the Inu no Taisho had caught her in the middle of combing her hair.

Struggling not to cry, she patted the last of the rice dust on her cheeks and drew subtle lines with a smudging stick just over her lashes to thicken their appearance. Quietly, so as not to disturb Inuyasha who was still sleeping, she retrieved a box from her wardrobe and lifted out the twelve-layer dress.

Wrapping herself in a fresh chemise, she slid into the scarlet skirt and then swept over the light blue unlined robe where all the other silks would rest against. Next, she pulled on the first layer, a very becoming shade of lilac, followed by a soft imperial yellow, madder, and finally the pale green outerrobe. The last piece was the rose-colored jacket embroidered with flowers and its matching back-pleated skirt with the accompanying sash. 

When she looked into the mirror again, she didn’t know what to think, now that she was fully dressed in the traditional trappings of nobility. How heavy and awkwardly stiff it felt to be back in this weighty thing and yet, only a few years ago, these had been her everyday clothes.

_I don’t even know who you are anymore,_ Izayoi said to herself and the face in the glass stared back at her in equal confusion.

As she reached down to straighten out a crease, she felt something press against her hip then digging into her pockets, she withdrew a small ivory case shaped like a scallop. Intrigued, she flicked it open to reveal a bit of safflower rouge.

_Tōga._

Another secret, thoughtful surprise he had left for her to find.

“....you were always good at giving gifts.” Izayoi murmured sadly as she looked at the trinket in her hand. It seemed a lifetime ago when she and the Inu no Taisho used to talk for hours on the verandah of her pavilion then upon his leavetaking, she would always find a present quietly left for her there.

She tapped her finger on the rouge and dabbed it on her lips, turning their natural pink into scarlet.

Perhaps it was the cumulative effect of enduring grief for all this time, in burying herself in work, or competently caring for her son, but when she turned to the mirror for a last look, she was surprised by the change. The woman looking at her now appeared taller, confident even. As if she was ready to take on whatever challenge the world threw at her. The memory of one of the greatest warriors in the past millenia was upon her although she did not know it; all she saw was a sweep of his chosen color, the beating red of his love staining her lips.

An hour later, Inuyasha woke up and immediately brightened when he saw his mother in her new colorful robes. He seemed awestruck by them and much to her amusement, he constantly petted the fabric with his hands as though he couldn’t quite believe their silky texture and gorgeous patterns.

After finishing breakfast, she lifted Inuyasha into her arms and did one last walkabout on the palace grounds. She took him to each garden, showing him her favorite flowers and brought him to the best ponds where he could look at the carps languidly swimming among the lotuses. They crossed the galleries together, going through every section and every memory.

“Inuyasha, do you see that?” Izayoi held him close as she pointed out her old pavilion to him. “That’s where Papa first brought me. Do you see the verandah over there? He and I used to sit right at that spot and read together. Sometimes, we’d have tea or dinner then play Go for a little while. After he went, I’d always find some kind of present waiting for me. But I preferred spending time with him far more.”

She smiled into her baby’s hair.

“Did you know your father liked music? Once, when I was playing my koto, he stood in those trees, right there, and I had no idea he was listening.” She kissed Inuyasha’s cheek as he turned to blankly look in the direction she was indicating. “Oh, and there’s the bridgeway where you started to walk! You’ve grown so big since then...and over here is Papa’s library…”

Taking Inuyasha with her, she crossed the bridge to reach the library and stepped inside its familiar sunlit rooms for one last time.

Shelves upon shelves of neatly packed scrolls, bound books, and manuscripts surrounded them, framed by ivory circular lattice panels that featured flying cranes and graceful clouds. The marble floors beneath her feet gleamed as she went in further to see all the lovely windows which had cushioned ledges and looked out to the gardens; their panes edged by clambering jasmine and wisteria. There were fine tables, writing desks, and chairs for any visitor who wished to come in and read. Above, the ceiling had been carved into a hexagonal design to display a stunning white jade cassion.

Izayoi took a breath, catching the comforting scent of cedar, ink, and paper permeating the air. Bidding Inuyasha to get a glimpse of his father’s magnificent collection, she then lifted his little hand by the wrist and palm.

For a long moment, she gazed upon the building where she had spent many happy hours with the Inu no Taisho and got lost in bittersweet reminiscence.

“...let’s say goodbye to the palace, my darling.” She said softly, guiding his hand in a gentle wave of farewell.

“Bye bye.” Inuyasha waved, looking around the library in bright-eyed wonder before turning to see his mother. “Where we going, Mama?”

“To our new home.” She affectionately lowered her face in his. “But don’t worry, it’s very nice and we will get to see your lady aunt there. She told me she has a big pond and a pretty garden where you can play.”

“But I like _this_ one.”

“I did too because Papa was the one who built it but the other one is lovely and much safer for both of us.” She put on a cheerful smile. “Now, let’s get back to the courtyard, Inuyasha. It’s time for us to go…”

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“Come to me, my love.”

Smiling, Izayoi held out her hand to Inuyasha as he unhesitatingly took it and toddled over to her side at once. In her other hand, she held a covered basket which her son soon tried to grab at as they walked from the manor’s courtyard and stepped out to amble towards a grove of ornamental trees that grew right outside the property.

It was early morning, well before anyone except a handful of servants was awake so the property was very quiet. The only sounds that could be heard were the sparrows chirping from the nearby woods as they greeted the rising sun.

Only a few minutes had lapsed when Inuyasha began to whine, clinging to his mother’s skirts, until she reached down to take him into her arms then carried him to their destination with the basket in tow.

“There, now, that wasn’t too far was it?” She kissed his temple as they approached the trees. Setting the basket on the grass, she gently knelt down and settled Inuyasha up to his feet. The skies were a bright grey and the air was a little cool. All around them, they were surrounded by new leaves just beginning to sprout and tiny green undershoots rising from the grass.

Enclosing both of his little hands into hers, she looked into her son’s beautiful golden eyes.

“Do you remember what today is?”

“Papa.” Inuyasha’s face broke into a winsome smile.

“That’s right.” She was happy. “It’s your lord father’s birthday today.”

_The day we picked together for you._

She straightened Inuyasha’s robes as she thought of the time when Inu no Taisho had touchingly promised her they would celebrate his birthday with their son. He had not been able to fulfil that wish but it didn’t mean _she_ couldn’t so every year, she marked the occasion. It was a private ritual in which only she and Inuyasha maintained; a secret they both kept from a world that seemed decidedly against them.

When Izayoi first arrived with Inuyasha at the provincial manor and greeted her aunt, she was met with a chilly reception. Kinship aside, what really mattered to her lady aunt was money and the threat of losing access to the imperial court.

It wasn’t that the aunt hated her illustrious niece. She had been sorry, just as everyone else had been, for her poor brother whose family was decimated by the plague and was left with this lone daughter. Back then, people had said he was lucky! Lucky that his loveliest child had been spared. In hindsight, the aunt saw that it had been a stroke of bad karma. 

When the aunt learned Mototsune’s girl had been chosen as the fourth consort, she was not only astounded by the news but became deeply resentful. She herself had two daughters of her own who were close in age to Izayoi and of similar rank. Why hadn’t the former emperor picked them too? They were pretty and yes, maybe they could not quite match their cousin in looks but the aunt was convinced that they wouldn’t have caused even a _fraction_ of the trouble her niece had made in the last three years. Izayoi had managed to get herself kidnapped and held hostage by a demon, _lost_ the imperial sword, humiliated the former emperor, and to top it all off, gave birth to a _hanyō_. 

In reviewing the litany of destruction left in her niece’s wake, the aunt was glad her brother had not lived to see how far his beautiful daughter had fallen and been forced to acknowledge the detestable little mongrel as his grandson.

Izayoi and her boy, however unwelcome they were made to feel, nonetheless were granted a pavilion. The aunt had given her the most remote one, away from the main halls and fairly inaccessible unless one were to make the trek across the huge garden in which all the galleries and wings were built around. The aunt had also grudgingly delegated a maid and a nurse for attendants but was shocked after Izayoi thanked her then said there was no need for a nanny because she looked after Inuyasha herself. It was the most ridiculous thing she ever heard in her narrow-minded life apart from the sheer fact that her niece was willingly raising this child.

The aunt wasted no time in voicing her opinion on the subject. “Women of common birth tend to their children. A lady of your breeding and position does not. It’s degrading.”

To this, Izayoi merely raised her eyes and said in perfectly clear tones that left no room for misunderstanding, “I am Inuyasha's mother. It is my right and duty to care for him.”

“You are still a princess-consort as you so often remind me!” The aunt snapped. “This is ill-befitting of your rank and you know it!”

“He is _my_ son.” Izayoi did not raise her voice but it was cool and devoid of any familiar warmth. “I have the final say on anything that concerns his welfare so don't interfere, Aunt." 

So Izayoi and Inuyasha secluded themselves away in their private corner, hidden by hydrangeas and a pond of koi fish. Out of sight and out of mind, that was the unspoken rule that reigned over the provincial manor. As they settled into their new residence, no one visited them. Neither the aunt nor the unmarried female cousins had any inclination to socialize with a young widow and her half-breed child. 

It was just as well.

Yet in the grand scheme of things, Izayoi viewed this friction as a small price to pay for a shelter that put her and Inuyasha at a safe distance from the new guardians of east and west.

“Now, now,” Izayoi laughed as Inuyasha pried into the basket, “let me set this up and I will give you your snack.”

With her son’s assistance, she spread a wide swath of a pretty brocade on the grass. Then a bouquet of irises that Inuyasha had helped her pick from the garden followed by dumplings, chestnut cakes, dried satsumas, dates, and jujubes. A carafe of rice wine and fresh water with accompanying porcelain cups were then produced. The final item was a folded paper which Izayoi had written her delicate calligraphy on.

After arranging all this on a celadon plate, she let Inuyasha have one of the dumplings and showed him how to pour the libations to the gods then to the Inu no Taisho. She drank from the wine cup while Inuyasha had water. Once the honors were done, she beckoned her son to sit in her lap and looked to the altar that she made as she hugged him to her. The sky and this little patch of trees were her shrine as her mind went blank in prayer.

That somehow, somewhere, her husband was listening. That he knew they were here, waiting for him.

He had told her he would return someday although she did not know how such a thing was possible. But it didn’t stop her from wishing for it to come true, every single day.

“We hope you have been well.” Izayoi addressed the empty air. “Inuyasha picked out your flowers today. I am sure you wouldn’t mind sharing but he really loves dumplings and couldn’t wait any longer,” she added with a grin, knowing that Inuyasha was eating one as she spoke.

“I’ve been showing our son your paintings and reading to him every night. He adores them so much. I recognize some of the places you drew but for the ones I don’t know, we make up stories about where you’ve been and how you might have got there. You would be very proud of him, Tōga. He is so clever and is just starting to learn his letters.”

Her eyes welled with tears and she quickly wiped them away as she did not want Inuyasha to see her sad.

“Yesterday, I told Inuyasha about the first time you took me to see the cathedrals and when we saw the lantern festival on the continent. Do you remember that? He loved hearing about it.”

Her lips trembled as she struggled to smile. It had now been four years since the Inu no Taisho’s death and _still,_ it hurt so much to breathe just thinking about it. Even now, she felt enormous dread every winter and was painfully reminded of that unspeakably terrible day of blood on the snow.

“Mama,” Inuyasha pointed to the paper, “what’s that?”

“It’s my present to Papa.” She tucked a stray hair away from his face. “I wrote him a poem. Your grandfather was the one who taught me that’s what people do for special days like this.”

“What’s it say?”

Izayoi held him and as she spoke, close to his ear, her words were lifted into the wind like effervescent petals of a withering bloom as they settled over his childhood memories and carried to the listening trees.

_Once, watching over the sea and mountains,_

_The blue sky opens with one single thought_

_I ask if Heaven knows that love can outlast a lifetime?_


	12. Dreaming Towards the Vernal Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedication: A special thanks and acknowledgement to Empyrielle, MissMelly, WavesOver, Sea, Rosekylix, Dalissy, and Our Lady of Perpetual Shade for all of your extremely kind and encouraging reviews to get me to this point. This chapter is for everyone who took the time to provide feedback and kudos. Finally, for you, dear reader, in making it all the way through. This love story is for all of you.

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**Part XII: Dreaming Towards the Vernal Light**

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_Artist Credit: Unknown_

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The beginning or the end, Izayoi could not bring herself to recall either. The memories of both brought on an extremity of emotions. Rage, sadness, regret. To her, the world would come to a fatal stop in which all the beauty and color of life burned into blackened ash. 

What sustained her in her grief were the little moments in the middle. Good and bad, better or worse. That, and her son were the only things that she could cling to as she continued on. They said time could heal all wounds yet the adage didn’t seem to apply to her. When the Inu no Taisho had died, the light in her life had gone out and for every year that passed, the darkness only deepened. 

Although Inuyasha easily adapted to their new life at the provincial manor, she herself struggled with the transition. The time she spent with demonkind had left a permanent mark and her return to mankind proved to be disorienting. Everything about humanity chafed at her senses, rendering the most elegant buildings to appear dull and manicured gardens seem drab. Everywhere she looked, there was so much noise, filth, despair, and crime. People around her aroused the worst feelings. How superstitious, senseless, ignorant, and prejudiced they all were. Only her rank protected her from being insulted outright but she knew how they looked at her. 

She had changed and they knew it. 

Time went on and stories cropped around her like weeds in an untamed garden. For she was but a blank canvas on which many unknown authors simply wrote whatever they felt like, regardless of whether or not it was true. There were tales that described her as a wilting, submissive girl that had been willingly seduced by a demon. Others made her out into a conniving, heartless shrew who led on the emperor, her own captain of the guard, and as if the depths of her depravity were not enough, the guardian of the west _and_ east. Some claimed she was just a high-spirited lady who longed for adventure and had found it with the Inu no Taisho. A few said she must have been a witch or a dark priestess; who else could have fallen for such a creature? 

No one seemed to get at the truth. That everything had been a colossal accident. A circumstance of chance and fate leading to a genuine love match on both sides. 

The lies and rumors blurred together so no one could remember what actually happened. The details got mixed up and at one point, Takemaru was erroneously being claimed as her betrothed. It was a grotesque insult. A painfully inaccurate portrayal of Takemaru as the noble knight-errant and the Inu no Taisho as the devil incarnate. A beast who had been incapable of reason and feeling other than to possess. 

If only they knew. That Takemaru himself had been the real monster. That the demon they so despised had demonstrated more courage and honor than the human. 

Whatever the reason, people chose to think differently. It was somehow more preferable to reduce Izayoi as a sinner, a whore, a princess, or a heroine. It depended on who you asked. But in all retellings, whether or not who was involved, she was to blame. Whether it was her foolishness, pride, or even her beauty being the cause, the crime was affixed on her person. 

It was _she_ , everyone said, who had led so many to their ruin. 

With how she was behaving these days, it only fed their seedy imaginations. 

Having been used to the general freedoms at the palace in the west, Izayoi now found herself being forced into prior customs that she had altogether abandoned. The aunt expected her to stay in her rooms and essentially do nothing all day long. Respectability equated with a docile lady cocooned in silks and letting the time pass by in a state of unbelievable ennui. 

Well, Izayoi decided, as the mother of a son in whose veins ran the reddest of demon blood, this expectation was unacceptable. 

To keep Inuyasha’s mind alert and busy, she established a routine for the two of them and kept him engaged in all sorts of activities. Twice a day, they went for walks in the garden or the neighboring woods outside. They shared all their meals together then would spend a few hours reading or playing hide-and-seek. Since Inuyasha had turned three, she had started him on basic lessons and replicated not only what her own father had schooled her in but supplemented it with other branches of knowledge. 

When she first undertook the task of teaching Inuyasha how to write, she used the many letters she had saved from Mototsune and the Inu no Taisho. Holding her son’s hand around a calligraphy brush, she guided his little fist so he could trace out all the characters, using his grandfather’s and father’s fine handwritings as examples to emulate. 

Their general isolation did not seem to matter too much to Inuyasha but Izayoi worried that because he had no playmates, he was starved for company so she made efforts to have some of the servants’ children come and play with him on occasion. 

As with all good intentions, this led to inadverdent disaster. 

Initially, her son played very well with the others and she was happy to see everyone got along until one day, her panicked maid rushed to find her and let her know that Inuyasha had hit one of the little boys with his claws. After making all the necessary apologies to the frightened parents and ensuring that the wounded child was taken care of, Izayoi then attended to her son who had been brought into the pavilion in a very sour, mutinous mood. 

He was extremely unwilling to tell her exactly what happened but by and by, she pieced together the sequence of events. The children had been playing with toys and one of the boys had refused to hand over the one that Inuyasha had wanted. 

“Inuyasha,” she knelt down in front of him so she could look into his eyes, “you _cannot_ strike anyone just because they didn’t do what you asked. It’s wrong and hurtful. You cannot do this ever again. Do you understand me?” 

But Inuyasha merely dropped his gaze down to the floor. 

“Inuyasha.” Izayoi was stern. 

“He said a bad thing!” Inuyasha’s voice rose to a shout. 

“ _Inuyasha._ ” 

“No!” He tried to twist away from her as she attempted to keep him still. “He said I didn’t have a real papa! I told him I did and he said I was lying! He said my papa was a monster!” 

Stunned, she was at a momentary loss as to what to say to this unexpected revelation. But recognizing at once that it was critical not to lose her composure and clarify this fallacy, she took her hands into his and bade him to look at her. 

“Your father was the Inu no Taisho.” Her eyes locked onto his own. “He was what people call a _daiyōkai._ He was a demon, yes, but _not_ a monster. Your father fought to protect many people and tried to keep them safe. Monsters don’t do that.” 

“But where did he go?” His question hit her like a knife to her chest. “How come Papa never saw me?” 

“Papa did see you.” Izayoi’s voice was reduced to a whisper. “He saw you and loved you from the moment he laid eyes on you. Just like I did. He loved you so much, Inuyasha, and he wanted to stay with us but he...he couldn’t.” 

“Why not?” Inuyasha suddenly looked angry. 

“....” 

“Why not, Mama?” He demanded. 

“Your lord father was fighting a war.” Izayoi encased her hands over Inuyasha’s. “...and he got hurt. At the time, I was having you and he was very worried about us. Even though he was injured, he came to take us home. So we both could be safe. He died protecting you and me.” 

She gazed into his face to see how he was taking all this in and whether or not he understood. 

“He died.” Inuyasha blankly repeated. 

“Yes.” Her lips trembled. “Do you know what that means?” 

“When you go to sleep and never wake up.” 

“It’s a bit like that. But when someone dies, you don’t get to see them again except in your thoughts.” Involuntarily, her mind went to the excruciating moment when she realized that the Inu no Taisho had stopped breathing and he died in her arms before his body had broken up into a thousand stars going out of her reach. 

“Did he die because he wasn’t strong enough?” 

“No, my love.” Izayoi lifted his hands to her lips so she could press a kiss onto his claws. “Your father didn’t die because he was weak. He was _very_ strong, like you, and incredibly brave. You see, Inuyasha, it’s only when you protect someone, you become so powerful that almost nothing can stop you. That’s how he was able to rescue us.” 

“Well he shouldn’t have died!” Inuyasha burst out in insensible defiance and extreme frustration at being scolded for what he believed was right. He couldn’t understand his mother’s rationale and didn’t have the patience to articulate himself. His little heart was just bursting with indignation at the wrong he felt at being called out for not having a father and being accused of lying. Worse yet, he was coming to the realization that his mighty sire was not an invincible hero. For all his demonic prowess, the Inu no Taisho had succumbed to death just like everyone else. 

He was upset. He was angry and he didn’t care about anything other than making that other boy pay or raging against whoever was responsible for the fact his papa was gone. 

Wrenching away from her grasp, he stepped back and glared at her with the same eyes that were as golden as Tōga’s had been. 

In the clear, thin treble of his voice, he crushed her soul. 

“I hate him and I hate you!” 

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_Our son told me he hates us._

_I didn’t know what to say. What would you have done? Did you ever go through this with your other son?_

_I don’t know what to do._

_He said you shouldn’t have died and with every breath in my body, I wish you hadn’t either._

_It was all my fault._

_You should still be here, not me. From the beginning, it was never meant to be me._

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In the following autumn, Izayoi ventured to seek an answer to a question that had haunted her. Something that the Inu no Taisho said in his last words. He told her he would somehow find a way to return to her and would beg the gods for one more lifetime. 

For every year that went by after his death, the hope dimmed. 

But she wanted—needed—to understand why. 

Deciding to take a short excursion to one of the grand monasteries, she took Inuyasha with her and traveled by carriage. Less than a day and a half later, they were quietly received by the resident clerics who showed them to their rooms during their brief stay. Quite a few were astonished at her arrival. It was rare for a consort, much less one with a half-breed child, to undertake a temple visit. Yet, in keeping with their vow and duty to welcome travelers, they shut their mouths and tried their best to go about their business as usual with an occasional curious look or stare. 

This particular place housed a famous shrine and a pagoda, honoring both deities under one roof. The grounds had been built right on the rocky ridges of a low mountain. Its steps were carved out of rock and all of its balconies opened out to wondrously clear, drop-off views of the clouds. Everything below was hidden by mist and rock in this alpine sanctuary. 

Knowing that it would be cold at the monastery, Izayoi had stitched up the precious firerat robe into a formal piece for Inuyasha, just like what all the little boys wore. He was delighted with his new outfit and she too was charmed by the sight of him in scarlet. The color suited him beautifully and made his appearance all the more striking. 

What mattered more to her was the fabric’s armor-like qualities and she was deeply reassured her only child was now protected not just from the elements but any blade. Magic was surely interwoven in the cloth. Although she had cut and measured it, there was not a scrap wasted and when she put it on Inuyasha, the firerat robe molded around him to a perfect fit and seemed to grow with him. This particular enchantment was impressive as Inuyasha went through his clothes so quickly that by the time she had something put together, he had already grown an inch or two. 

After their respite, Izayoi took Inuyasha around the grounds, hoping the different sights would cheer him a little. He was in a prickly mood and lately, had gotten into a habit of refusing to wear shoes. She had finally got him to put them on due to the weather albeit it had been a grudgingly slow process. 

Any parent would have lost patience yet she knew the underlying cause for his grumpiness and couldn’t find the energy or will to be irritated at him. 

Inuyasha was beginning to understand what he was and how people saw him. 

There had been another ugly incident at the manor which had served to exacerbate her already fraying relationship with the aunt. 

Some weeks prior, the aunt had thrown a celebratory gathering for her eldest daughter who had at last become a bride: to a chancellor’s son, no less. Elated, the aunt invited all the local dignitaries and opened up the entire garden, setting up the banquet tables along the adjacent galleries so the guests could look out to the lake as they ate and admire the lush hydrangeas that grew along its prettyish borders. 

Izayoi had assiduously kept herself and Inuyasha away from the festivities, well aware that their company was unwelcome. But her son was so dazzled by the lights and sounds of the party that after much pleading, she relented to take him outside so he could get a glimpse from afar. When a group of young noblemen started playing _kemari_ in the courtyard, he was fascinated and the moment she had turned around to retrieve something from their pavilion, he had run off to join the game. 

When she called him back, he flew straight back into her arms. Wide-eyed, he then innocently asked her what a _hanyō_ was. 

That alone not only precipitated tears, which she failed to hold back in front of her son, but brought on a total breakdown later that night after she had put Inuyasha to bed. 

Her little boy was but five and he still had to hear that slur against him. 

It was so unfair. Despite having a highborn mother and the bloodline of a great sire, he would always be judged for what he was and what he was not. The name-calling was only a prelude for a life marked by hostility and unwantedness. No matter where he would go, in the mortal or demon realm, he would never truly belong and if he belonged nowhere, then who would befriend or love him? 

The question burned like a brand against her heart and ignited a deep-seated anger against her dead husband. 

Like all children, Inuyasha had been conceived in both love and lust. A decision that she had undertaken with the Inu no Taisho both willingly yet unknowingly too. But had he known that this would happen to their son? Then why hadn’t he prepared her? Perhaps _this_ the price he often spoke of, on what it really meant to love one of demonkind. Well she had paid for it dearly and was still paying for it even now. There had been so many losses since she made that fateful choice to stay and pledge herself to the guardian of the west. How much more were the gods going to extract from her for that? 

If loving the Inu no Taisho had supposedly been a sin, why was her son being the one punished for it? 

Sadly, Izayoi looked down at Inuyasha as they walked hand-in-hand around the monastery courtyard. 

When they saw all that they wanted to see, she tried to persuade him to accompany her to the shrine but he resisted, perhaps because he was bored or tired. She wasn’t sure. 

“Do you want to go back to our rooms?” She gently asked him in an attempt to ascertain what was bothering her son. “Are you sleepy, my darling?” 

She was so preoccupied with alleviating Inuyasha’s apparent discomfort that she was unaware of the cleric who cautiously approached them. 

“...Your Highness?” 

Izayoi turned and from motherly reflex, bade Inuyasha to get behind her.

A young, comely monk stood before her and Inuyasha at a respectful distance. Dressed in the formal grey robes of his sect, his dark hair was clipped short but had not been totally shorn off. The only ornamentation on his person was a simple wooden rosary of sutra beads wound around his wrist. 

“I trust you your stay has gone well?” His face relaxed into a gentle expression of helpfulness. “I’m one of the docents here.” 

“Yes, it has, thank you,” Izayoi said, inspired by a level of gratitude from the cleric’s kind manner. It had been so long since someone, no less a stranger, had greeted her so warmly. “We were thinking of going to the shrine to pray but I think my son is a little worn out.” She added. 

To her surprise, the cleric walked up to them then knelt down in front of Inuyasha with a ready smile. 

“If the young lord is interested, I seem to remember that we have lots of persimmons left on the trees here at the monastery. Perhaps he would like to accompany me to pick some to eat while his lady mother prays?” He looked inquiringly at Inuyasha then at Izayoi with a smile. 

Almost immediately, Inuyasha brightened at the promise of a snack and turned to his mother. “Mama, please?” He lisped. His eyes were as round and bright as two shining gold coins. 

“Well...” Izayoi hesitated as she rarely let Inuyasha out of her sight and although the cleric’s offer was thoughtful indeed, he was unknown to her. 

“The grove is just a few steps away from the shrine and right in its view.” The cleric helpfully pointed out, as though he understood the reason for her wariness. “I’d be glad to watch him for you until you finish your prayers if you’d like, my lady.” 

“Mama.” Inuyasha insisted and tugged at her sleeve. 

“That’s very kind,” Izayoi accepted cautiously even though her son’s mood was improving immeasurably at the prospect of food. 

Together, the three of them ambled their way to the scarlet gateway that led up to a rockened staircase. Just as the cleric had described, there was a grove of persimmon trees growing at the foot of the stone courtyard and nearly all of their branches were crowded with the bright orange fruits. Inuyasha was beyond thrilled and much to Izayoi’s wonder, the cleric was delighted by her son’s reaction. Without hesitation, he picked up the boy in his arms then took him right to the trees so he could get a closer look. 

Feeling much more at ease, Izayoi smiled at the two of them and sensing that the cleric was giving her an opportunity, she turned and made her way up the stairs. The cypress pines shaded her ascent as she climbed up to where the altar was. It had been built on the perfect spot for viewing the valley and sky. As far as her eyes could see, there was a riotous mix of green, gold, and red from autumnal trees. They blended seamlessly together to form a colorful horizon against the bright blue sky high aloft the clouds. 

In the midst of this natural splendor, she came upon the white veils hung over a pantheon of basalt statues. Their gauzy ends floated in the high breeze, brushing against the impassive faces of the gods. Bowing, she knelt and folding her hands in the familiar attitude of prayer, she looked upon them with watchful expectancy. 

Their stone eyes stared on, unseeing, as they sat immobile on their worldly thrones.

For what felt like a long time, she silently beseeched them and called them by each of their sacred names to invoke their presence, never taking her gaze away. She lowered her head and spread out her hands before her as she prostrated herself. 

_Where is he?_ She begged from the very depths of her soul. 

Her fingers pressed onto the cold rock. 

_Have mercy on us both. Where is he? If not here, where did you send him?_

When she lifted herself up from the ground, she stared at the gods and hoped against hope that these insensate figurines could somehow answer her or give a sign that they were listening. The sun, moon, sky, the very island itself. 

An empty silence stretched on along with a rising anger that built up within her. 

“Why,” she whispered to them, “did you take him?” 

The gods made no reply and remained as they were. Slowly, she rose to her feet and walked up to the center where the statue of Amaterasu had been placed. Her hand reached over to trace the goddess’ blank features. 

“Was loving him a sin? Some kind of mistake?” Izayoi asked. 

Still, there was no answer. 

“He didn’t deserve to die.” Her eyes were red and burning with tears that were about to fall. “ _Our son_ didn’t deserve to grow up fatherless.”

As her hand fell away from the goddess, she thought of the Inu no Taisho and felt as though her heart would burst from the pain of his memory. 

_I can’t believe you died, I can’t understand it. I’ll never understand it._ She thought in anguish. _Why did you leave me? Why didn’t you tell me about the risks our son would face simply for being what he is? Why?_

“Tōga,” she breathed his name aloud and the very utterance of it brought on an even greater lash of suffering that she could no longer endure. 

In the blink of an eye, her mind went blank in fury and grief-stricken resentment. At the former emperor, Takemaru, the dragon, even the demoness, and yes, her husband too. She was a widow on borrowed time and resources. A single mother to a boy who was soon to become an orphan in an unforgiving world of violence and hostility. No amount of money, magic or power could help her spare Inuyasha from this outcome and she had to live with the knowledge her choice had led to this. She must have been crazy, desperate even, to think the Inu no Taisho could come back to rescue her again or the gods would reply with divine reassurance. 

Taking a step back, her arms then shot out to violently push the statue from its plinth. It slid from the impact then crashed onto the floor, followed by another, another, and another…

Under her wrath, they fell one by one until finally the altar was left empty. 

She sank to her knees, lowering her face into her hands as her chest heaved with sobs. 

_You’ve ruined me…!_

Her arms folded under her as she buried her head onto them and let the tears run. The chasm within her, left by the Inu no Taisho’s death, had split open again and the emptiness was more than she could bear. He had told her to live well and she had tried in these last five years but she couldn’t do it. She just couldn’t do it. How could she even continue to sit here, simply existing, and knowing she was responsible for both his death and her son’s future misery? 

To have loved someone she couldn’t be with and to love a child whom she would be parted from. 

Which was worse? 

Her cries must have carried down from where she was because not long after, there was a flurry of footsteps racing up the steps and then she heard the cleric’s voice call out to her in alarm. 

“My lady…!” 

It took the cleric a while before he was able to calm Izayoi and guide her down from the shrine. Placing an arm around her shoulders, he supported her as they descended from the staircase. 

“...my son.” Izayoi looked around for Inuyasha. “Where is he?” 

“He’s playing in the courtyard. Look, do you see?” 

She turned to where the cleric was indicating and saw Inuyasha sitting on one of the gallery ledges with a basket brimming with persimmons. His little feet happily dangled in the air as he bit into a fruit, one in each hand. 

Seeing him brought a smile to her lips even through her tears. 

“Would you care to sit?” The cleric guided her to a stone bench secluded from view by some bushy pines and away from Inuyasha’s line of sight. While doing so, he noticed the cuts on her hands and his brow creased in concern. 

“I ruined your shrine.” Izayoi morosely confessed. “Forgive me. I will compensate the temple for the damages, of course.”

“They were only statues.” The cleric was kind. “What matters more is your welfare, Highness. You are clearly distraught and it seems that prayer was unable to give you solace.” 

“Prayer?” She repeated although not without bitterness. “Yes, I’ve prayed over the years but what good has it done? The gods don’t listen. They never did.” 

“You are not the first to feel that way.” The cleric withdrew his arm and held one of her bruised hands in a chaste gesture of comfort. “The gods are a strange, mysterious lot. It’s said they often spend their time conspiring in the lives of mortals and never reveal their true design until the very end.” 

“Then in my case, they must have planned for real misery.” He saw the princess’s beautiful face harden. 

“All beings suffer in this world.The pain you feel is equally great and shared by everyone who has undergone similar circumstances.” 

Izayoi shook her head. “You don’t know who I am or what I’ve done.” 

“Forgive me, but I am in fact aware of your history. Almost everyone in the temple does. You were the fourth consort to the previous emperor, weren’t you? The one who disappeared.” The cleric answered much to her dismay and she withdrew her hand from his touch. 

“I see.” It was all she could say. “So you must have heard the stories then.” 

“All I gathered,” the cleric replied softly, “was that some years ago, the guardian of the west met a young noblewoman who had been selected to be an imperial concubine. Through time and circumstance, she instead became the demon’s bride and had his child. The guardians then started a war amongst themselves. One could even argue the prior emperor played a role in bringing that into fruition but in the end, no one won because everyone perished anyway.” 

He paused to look at her and she saw no judgement or scorn in his gaze. 

“This is where the tales usually end. I always wondered what happened to those left behind. But in seeing you now, I believe they must have suffered tremendously.” 

The sympathy in his voice was enough to break the dam and the next thing she knew, Izayoi found herself openly weeping in front of him. Holding onto his hand for dear life, she bent her head as all the pain and sorrow of her loss were unleashed. 

It was a long time before she was able to speak and when she did, she told him everything. From start to finish, beginning with her accidental meeting with the Inu no Taisho up to that horrible winter night at the coastal mansion then how her life had continued since then. 

“My lady...” There was deep sympathy in the cleric’s eyes as he comforted the forlorn princess through her tears. 

“It was my fault.” Izayoi’s voice trembled as she confessed what she believed to be her greatest shame. 

“That isn’t true, Highness.” 

“You don’t know.” She gripped his wrist, pleading for him to understand. “ _I_ was the one who sent for my husband. I had left the palace on my own accord and went back to my father’s home to…” she broke off, overwhelmed, then quelling her emotion, she continued. “ _I made a mistake.”_

“None of this was your doing.” The cleric empathetically tried to reason with her. “How could you have known you were walking into a trap?” 

“But I could have done something.” She said in anguish. “If I had been stronger or smarter, I could have fought back or tried to protect myself on my own. So instead—” her chest shuddered with sobs. “—instead, I gave in. I waited for Tōga to come and save me because I couldn’t do that for myself. Then when he was dying, all I could do was just sit there, watching him bleed out in front of me. My one true love. I couldn’t do anything for him and he was in so much pain.” 

She crushed her lips against her hand, trying to stop from screaming right then and there. 

“ _I loved him._ I loved him so much. He was my best friend, my hero, my king, my everything. When he died, I didn’t want to live anymore. I still feel that way even now but I know I can’t—I can’t because of my son.” 

Izayoi vehemently shook her head to refute the deathwish she had voiced. Ashamed, she felt immediate regret and a keen sense of parental irresponsibility. _Live well._ _With all I have, all that I am, I love you both._ The Inu no Taisho’s last words echoed in her mind and acted as an anchor for her despair to center on.

With touching care and sensitivity, the cleric reached over to take her hand in his once more. The beads of his rosary lightly rolled along her skin as he held her fingers in between his own. 

“What chance did a lone pregnant woman have against forces entirely beyond her control?” He murmured. “Despite those odds, you were able to save your child.” He looked to where Inuyasha was and could see the little boy playing with some fallen leaves on the ground. “You did the best you could...and I do not believe the Inu no Taisho regretted coming for you. He went willingly and if he could choose again, I am sure he still would have made the same decision. For as you deeply love him, it is clear he loved you just as much.” 

Tears fell from Izayoi’s eyes and ran down her cheeks as she raised her head to the cleric. 

“Is he…” She was terrified to ask and even more afraid to know the answer. “...will I never see him again?” 

The cleric’s gaze turned upward to the autumnal sky as he contemplated her question and looked down on her again with tender clemency. 

“Our teachings tell us there are few things that are able to transcend life and death. But I think that love, even though it is an earthly attachment, is one of those exceptions. You are human and he was a demon, yet you were brought together. There were so many obstacles that lay between you both and each time, you overcame them. So why should death be no different?” He smiled at her. “You told me that one of the last things the Inu no Taisho said to you was he would ask the gods for another lifetime. A second chance to be with you again.” 

“Yes.” She whispered, fleetingly thinking of those final moments and the blood she had tasted upon his lips when they had kissed for the last time. 

“Is there any reason for you to doubt his word?” 

It was as if she had fallen under a momentary spell. The temple surroundings around her faded out to the familiar setting of the Western Palace. She could almost smell the fragrance of lilacs and jasmine, just as she discerned the Inu no Taisho’s silhouette in the garden then his arms winding around her in a secure and warm embrace. He was so close, she nearly heard him calling for her and saw a flash of his brilliant, confident smile. 

Just for a moment. 

She took a breath and the memory burst like a bubble, returning her to the world of the living and reality. 

“...no.” She said at last. 

The cleric squeezed her hand in reassurance. “Then trust him. Believe in him. Take comfort in the certainty that your love surpasses the boundary between this life and the next. If not now, someday, you will find him again.” 

Izayoi could not speak, overwhelmed by gratitude for this extraordinary display of compassion. But the cleric seemed to understand and instead of waiting for a reply, he rose from the bench to recall Inuyasha. 

When he brought the boy to his mother, the child ran straight into the princess’s awaiting arms. 

“Oh, look at you,” she smiled good-naturedly when she saw Inuyasha’s hands sticky with persimmon mush. With accustomed air, she withdrew a handkerchief from her robes and started to wipe off the mess from his palms. 

“Mama, see what I made!” Inuyasha proudly held up some leaves that he had stripped to their skeletons so she could inspect them herself. 

“If there is anything you require, you only need to ask, princess,” the cleric bowed to her. 

Izayoi lowered her eyes in deferential thanks. “Thank you for everything. I can’t tell you what it meant.” Her words were sincere. “Forgive me, I didn’t even get to ask for your name.” 

“It was the least I could do for the most beautiful woman in the kingdom.” The cleric replied with gentle gallantry. “All of us here are referred to by our surnames. Mine is Higurashi.” 

“Higurashi.” Izayoi repeated. “I won’t forget your kindness.” 

“My lady.” He bowed again. She watched him retreat from the courtyard and return to the monastery’s main grounds while she held Inuyasha. 

Overhead, the boughs of the trees rustled, scattering leaves and debris across the stones. The sunlight had grown pale in the time that had lapsed during her conversation and when a cold breeze blew past her, she shivered as did Inuyasha who promptly buried his face into his robes. 

“It’s chilly, isn’t it? Shall we go back in, my darling?” 

She kissed the top of his head and got on her feet. 

Taking Inuyasha by the hand, together, they made their way back, leaving behind what she hoped would be the last of her sorrows in the years left to her. 

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When Inuyasha turned six, calamity struck. 

It began with what Izayoi mistook for a simple cold. Believing it was nothing that a hot bath and a dose of rosehip syrup couldn’t cure, she sent Inuyasha to bed early. By next morning, he had a raging fever and could hardly lift his head from his pillow. Hearing his ragged coughing and seeing him struggle to breathe sent her into a flying panic. 

Frantically, she pored through her manuscripts to understand what kind of illness this was and look for a possible cure. Fearing contagion, she locked herself and the boy within the inner rooms. She would not have any of the servants come close other than to drop off and take away meal trays or bring herbs from the apothecary at her request. Day and night, she stayed by Inuyasha’s bedside in an anxious vigil. 

She kept him wrapped up in his blankets and fed him a steady diet of soups and medicinal tonics she prepared herself. When his temperature rose, she held a cold compress to his forehead and if he fussed, she tried to soothe him with bathtime or a story if she could not get him to return to sleep. 

On days when nothing worked and Inuyasha was extremely upset, whether by pain or discomfort, she held him in her arms like she used to when he was a baby. Her voice was calm, her expression tranquil. But in her heart, she was tormented by the black terror of death. She could not lose this child. Her _only_ boy, her chiefest pride and joy. The last living link she had left of her husband. 

If Inuyasha died, she would be finished. She knew she could no longer go on if that were to come to pass. The very reason for her continued existence would be extinguished upon her son’s last breath. Medicine could go far yet bound by the limitations of her time and where she was, she understood that even a child with demonic heritage was still susceptible to mortality. 

On one particularly grueling night, she finally succeeded in getting Inuyasha to sleep after spending hours tending to his every need. Mercifully his fever had abated but his cough still lingered and she knew his ears ached as he had been tugging at them all day. 

Ensuring he was securely tucked in his bed, she quietly stole off to take a short wash and prepare for bed. Exhausted and feeling grimy, she threw a cotton square in tepid bran-soaked water then stripped away her clothes so she could rub her body clean. Drying herself afterwards, she changed into her linen robes and loosened her hair free from its ribbons. As she made her way back, she pushed aside the screen doors leading to the bedchamber. The candle she had left on was still burning but what arrested her on the spot was not its flickering light or the shadows on the floor. 

It was the tall figure standing over her son’s sleeping form, watching over him in his fitful slumber. Even in the semi-darkness, she could see that his hair gleamed like moonlight. Her heart stopped at the sight and her breathing stilled. Oh, it couldn’t be. _Was it him?_ Had _he_ returned to her at last? Blood rushed to her cheeks and her eyes glistened with joyful tears. 

Thrilled, she took a step forward. 

“My love…?” She whispered as she reached out to touch this beloved ghost. 

But when the apparition turned and she saw his golden eyes return her gaze, she came to a sudden halt. 

Before she could speak, the man appeared right in front of her and seizing her by the wrist, he dragged her away from Inuyasha’s room and forced her into the adjacent study. 

An unattended oil lamp was the sole source of light and already at its last dregs. But its feeble illumination was just enough for Izayoi to look upon her captor and discern him at last. 

“Sesshomaru.” She whispered, aghast at her mistake. By all the gods, why didn’t she notice this sooner? From this distance, he looked so much like...

“ _Where is it?_ ” She heard him demand and felt his claws tighten painfully around her hand. 

“I don’t understand—” 

“Where is Tessaiga?” Coldly, Sesshomaru surveyed her from his much greater height and leaned in so that his fangs came dangerously close to her face as if he was going to tear it off. “If you tell the truth, I might let you live. Lie to me, there won’t be anything left of you.” 

But Izayoi could not speak. Shaken by her error in failing to distinguish Sesshomaru from the Inu no Taisho, the world felt like it had lopsided on itself. How could she have been so foolish? Her husband was dead and long-buried; a universe away and unable to protect her anymore. Not even from the wrath of his eldest son. 

“Are you disappointed that I am not the one you were hoping for?” Sesshomaru cruelly remarked. 

“I…” She struggled to reply. “I thought…” 

“You were wrong.” 

Her eyes filled again with tears. “....you look like him.” 

“I do not share my late father’s predilections. Least of all for his human whore.” 

She flinched under his insult. Nonetheless, she was moved to respond with the truth. “I was his wife and Inuyasha is your brother—” 

Sesshomaru’s hand shot out of nowhere and closed around her neck. None too gently, he pushed her until her back met against the wall. She winced and heard her son whimper in his sleep but he remained abed. 

Trembling, she raised her eyes to Sesshomaru. 

“You worthless bitch. How _dare_ you use my lord father’s birth name.” His claws dug into her skin. 

“He gave it to him.” Izayoi winced as she entreated him in whispers. “That’s what he named our son. He wanted him to have it—” 

“ _Don’t lie!”_

Sesshomaru could feel her soft flesh yield easily in his grip. How tempting and quick it would be to crush the life out of this wretched, miserable _thing._ He could not have imagined in a million years it would have come down to this. That a mortal princess, embodying all those virtues the Inu no Taisho had held so dear, was the reason why he no longer had a father or his rightful inheritance. 

She felt his grip tighten and without thinking, her hand rose to touch his wrist. Looking deep into his eyes, she forced herself to speak, knowing she was putting her life on the line with every word. 

“When your father died,” she felt an ever familiar stab of pain within her chest, “I didn’t know how I could go on. Not a day has gone by when I don’t think of him and I miss him so much that it hurts just to breathe. But even then, I always knew I wasn’t alone in my grief.” Her touch was sympathetic but to Sesshomaru, the warmth of her hand seemed to sear into his skin like a hot brand. 

“He loved you.” Izayoi refused to let go. “He spoke and thought of you often. He believed you were better than him in so many ways and wanted you to go far beyond what it meant to be a _daiyōkai._ ” 

_“Silence.”_ He could not bear to hear her. 

Breaking away from her grasp, his hand ascended to touch her face. The inside of his palm cupped her cheek as his thumb hovered threateningly above her right eye.

“I hold you responsible for his death.” His voice was full of blame. “You and your son weren’t worth saving.” 

He watched as his accusation inflicted pain upon his father’s so-called great love. What little light there was left in her beautiful dark eyes vanished underneath his own ambered glare. 

“If I could,” Izayoi replied with all the strength that was left in her, “I would trade places with him in a heartbeat. But the last thing your father asked of me was to live for as long as I could and be with our son. I intend to keep that promise. I _have_ to.” 

“You are not long for this world.” Sesshomaru said. 

Did she even know? Illness clung to her like a second shadow. He could see it in the paleness of her cheek and the faded rose upon her lips. It was the same sickness that he smelled on the child which had passed onto her in virulent manifestation. She would not recover. This was going to kill her and soon. 

“Tell me,” he forced her to meet his gaze, “if my lord father had lived, if everything you hoped for had come true, did you honestly believe any of this was going to work?” 

He waited to see if she would give something. Anything. A denial would have been truthful. A confirmation, on the other hand, would have proved to him that she was just as delusional as the Inu no Taisho had been. 

“You are mortal, he was a demon. He would have outlived you by a thousand times over. Your beauty…” his palm just barely grazed her lower jawline. “...would have faded. Your mind…” His eyes flickered to her temple. “...withered away. Even as your very bones turned to ash, he would still have outlasted you then. How could either of you have overcome that? Why did he give up so much for _you_?” 

Together, they stood in tense silence as the minutes ticked away from twilight to dawn. The night sky was beginning to turn grey as the rosy tendrils of dawn emerged from the distant horizon. With noiseless swiftness, the lamp went out, leaving everything in shadow but for the gleam in Sesshomaru’s eyes. 

“I was with him for only three years.” Izayoi said. “Three brief but wonderful, beautiful years...and I would rather have had that than nothing at all. He was the light of my life and gave me not one but two precious sons to cherish. For that alone, I will always be grateful and have no reason to regret the path I chose.” 

Before Sesshomaru could react, she leaned in and with her remaining arm, wrapped it around him and held him close as though he was a child. Her hair brushed against his chest and he caught her distinctive scent, a fading spring that would bloom no more. 

“Let me live, Sesshomaru,” he heard her say softly. “Let me keep my promise to your father and brother.” 

He could detect her heart tempering down into a slower, quieter rhythm as her breathing paced out. Almost as if her body itself was preparing for an end that was about to come. 

He wanted to push her away. He wanted to let go of this painful embrace that incited confusion rather than anger or repulsion. The princess’s sadness was somehow too much for him and he could not fathom what inspired her generosity of spirit or compassion because there was no need for either. 

So why was he still standing there? 

Forcefully, Sesshomaru flung her from him, not caring that the motion caused her to sway and fall on the floor. The noise was enough to wake the child and he could hear him already whining pathetically for his mother. 

He looked down at Izayoi in contempt. 

“Wherever Tessaiga may be, I intend to reclaim it as my own. If the _hanyō_ bastard so much as dares to think of retrieving it for himself or crosses paths with me again, I will not be as merciful.” 

He turned to go, determined that this would be the last time he would ever lay eyes on her again. 

“Wait.” Izayoi shakily rose to her feet. “Please, wait.” 

“You should attend to that brat of yours.” Sesshomaru barely inclined his head in the direction of Inuyasha’s room. 

“I beg you,” she beseeched, “when I am dead, please look after Inuyasha. I would like him to be with you.” 

“You are in no position to ask anything of me.” 

“I know.” Izayoi admitted. “But you were right about one thing. I am dying.” 

So, she knew after all. 

Slowly, deliberately, he faced her again and regarded her in a wholly new light. In spite of everything, there was something to be said about a woman who had seemingly come to terms with her death. The weight of the knowledge rested upon her head like a heavy crown and veiled her loveliness in sorrow yet she bore it all with a startlingly level of grace. 

“I don’t want Inuyasha to be alone or in danger.” She implored. “Please. You are the only family he has left.” 

“Not quite.” Sesshomaru faintly smirked. “I seem to recall your relations are still very much alive. The _hanyō_ has plenty of his human kin to rely on.” 

“You are his brother.” 

“We share blood. Nothing more.” 

“ _Please_.” She felt compelled to reach for him but the look on his face stopped her. 

“Be grateful your life was spared.” Sesshomaru icily responded. “For you won’t get a second chance.” 

Then before she could say anything else, he vanished. There was no sign or trace of his visit left anywhere in the pavilion. 

It was as if everything had been some strange, horrible dream. 

For a long moment, Izayoi remained frozen in place, not quite able to grasp what had just occurred. It wasn’t until she heard Inuyasha’s pitched cry that she snapped out of her stupor and rushed back to the bedroom to find her son awake but frightened from her absence. 

“I’m here, darling, it’s alright,” Izayoi immediately bent down and wrapped her arms around Inuyasha to console him. Dazed and a little breathless, she threw a backward glance at the darkened study. 

A keen sense of failure and despair cut her up from within. She had been unable to convince Sesshomaru of that one, critical request which mattered most to her. Inuyasha’s future. Not even the plea of familial ties had been enough to move her stepson in taking in his little brother. She and her baby were truly on their own now. 

_Tōga, what am I going to do?_ She wondered in desolation. 

“Mama’s here now. It’s alright.” Izayoi whispered, as she pressed her son close to her and wished with all her heart that it really would be. 

That everything would somehow, in some way, work out in the end. 

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Death came on a quiet, balmy night when the moon had turned into a golden crescent and the seven stars were at their brightest. 

By then, Inuyasha had recovered his full health thanks to his mother’s diligent efforts but the same could not be said for the princess herself. 

Like her son, Izayoi coursed through the stages of the sickness that had taken hold of him yet instead of lessening over time, her symptoms worsened. 

One morning, the maidservant found her unable to rise from her bed. A doctor was sent for and within the space of an afternoon, he pronounced a fatal diagnosis to the regret of the household. Almost everyone in the provincial manor despaired that such a dazzlingly lovely princess was to pass away. Even the aunt, despite their uneasy relationship, was dismayed to learn of her niece’s inevitable decline. As it so often happens with the dying, the spectre of death somehow softened away all of Izayoi's flaws and mistakes. They no longer regarded her as the strange woman who had seemingly thrown away her prospects to be a demon's lover. Rather, she became the poor beautiful creature whose untimely death inspired nothing but the deepest sympathy. 

Questions immediately arose. What of the annuity? How was the nine-fold palace to be informed? Was there a protocol for the mourning of a former princess-consort? 

Then there was the child. 

For years, he had been the least of everyone’s concern but now that Izayoi was dying, he became the forefront of unwanted attention. 

The servants feared him and his great-aunt despised him, the latter squarely blaming Izayoi’s illness on that detestable half-breed. Eventually realizing Inuyasha would likely be consigned into her care, any empathy the aunt had left for her niece evaporated. 

Claiming to do so out of general concern and for the child’s welfare, the aunt ordered her staff to remove the boy from his mother’s pavilion. Izayoi, lapsing in and out of consciousness, was hardly in a state to realize what had happened otherwise she would never have allowed such a thing to happen. Fortunately the arrangement did not last very long as the nursemaid tasked with looking after Inuyasha became quickly beleaguered by her little charge. 

Enraged by the separation, the boy threw the worst tantrums and cried so dreadfully. No amount of solace or distraction could persuade him to stop. He tossed away his meal trays, lashed out at anybody who attempted to get him to settle down and all the while kept passionately screaming for his mother. Once, he ran off and broke into one of Izayoi’s rooms, causing a massive ruckus as the servants chased after him. In the chaos, he managed to tear through his mother’s things and swiped a scallop case of rouge from her dressing table before the manservants hauled him out. 

Beaten down to her wit’s end, the nursemaid was obliged to do the one thing he asked for everyday and what she had been expressly forbidden to do by the aunt. 

“Mind your tears!” The nursemaid severely scolded Inuyasha as she led him by the hand to Izayoi’s rooms. “You don’t want to disturb your lady mother, do you?” 

The boy didn’t answer and remained petulantly silent, much to the nursemaid’s frustration. He had been in a sorry mood ever since he had been taken away from Izayoi and in the nursemaid’s opinion, she felt the princess had spoiled him too much with wanton affection. She had never known a child to be so attached to his mother or show such casual disrespect by neglecting any reference to his royal parent’s title. Why, not even an emperor’s son could address his own father without the requisite style and very rarely saw either of his eminent parents except on formal occasions. A _hanyō_ therefore was no exception to the rule, or so she thought. 

The screen doors to Izayoi’s bedchamber had barely slid open when Inuyasha let go of the nursemaid’s hand and ran straight to his mother’s bedside where she lay prostrate with all of her lovely black hair spilled across her pillows. 

“Mama! Mama!” 

“By the gods, child, where are your manners?” The nursemaid was scandalized by his lack of restraint. “You must address her as your _lady mother_!” 

“Please, it’s alright…” Izayoi weakly held up a placating hand. Unable to get up, she instead reached for Inuyasha who crashed next to her in bed and threw his arms around her. Relieved at being with him at last, she cradled him close to her body and bent her head down to kiss him. 

“Your Highness.” The nursemaid bowed stiffly. “Forgive our intrusion but the young master was most anxious to see you.”

“....where has my son been all this time? I’ve been asking for him everyday and no one would tell me anything.” 

“We’ve been keeping him away from the pavilion. We were concerned he would disturb you and that he would get sick again.” 

To this, Izayoi could say nothing. Stroking Inuyasha’s hair, she at last made her request, “Let him stay with me for now.” She said quietly. 

“As you wish.” The nursemaid was quick to obey, glad to get rid of Inuyasha for the night. She was about to depart when Izayoi asked her to relay additional instructions to the pavilion maids for the boy’s meals to be brought in and his bath drawn up. 

For the rest of the day, Izayoi and Inuyasha spent it together in some semblance of their earlier routines. With the assistance of two docile chambermaids, Izayoi ensured that Inuyasha had his lunch then afterwards was bathed and changed into fresh clothes. At her request, they dressed him back in the firerat robe and combed his hair until it gleamed silver. They also brought out the lacquered box where she kept all of the Inu no Taisho’s drawings and withdrew some of them for her so she could view them in bed with Inuyasha. 

In efficient silence, the maids continued to work in the background, tidying up the room and tending to the princess with whatever she needed. Every so often, they stole a glance at mother and son with increasing pity. It was unfortunate that the boy was a halfbreed yet, they conceded, he showed all the promising signs of being handsome. In a time where physical beauty was considered paramount, they thought he was lucky in this regard and believed there was hope for him still. Perhaps when he grew older, they thought in gross oversimplification, people might be able to forgive his deficiencies solely on the grounds of his good looks. 

“Do you remember this one?” Izayoi softly asked Inuyasha as she pointed to a sketch of a golden desert. “Now, can you show me which picture is from our island?” 

“This.” Inuyasha correctly picked out a drawing depicting a coastline of a grey ocean. 

“That’s right.” She smiled. “This is the western sea. It was one of your father’s favorite places to visit. The house I grew up in was very close to this particular beach. I had hoped to take you there someday.” 

“Maybe we can go tomorrow, when you get better.” Inuyasha’s eyes were bright and hopeful. 

His words gave her pause. Gently setting down the paintings, she bade Inuyasha to look at her. 

“My dearest darling,” Izayoi murmured, “I wish I could but I can’t.” 

“Why?” 

“You know that I’ve been sick for a while?” She asked to see if he understood and he nodded. 

“The medicines that the doctor gave me aren’t working anymore. I have gotten worse and my body is weak now. My heart will stop and I won’t be able to breathe. When that happens, I will die.” It broke her completely to have to tell Inuyasha this but she knew it had to be done. It was evident that no one had addressed her demise with him and she did not want him to be unprepared. 

“So you’ll go to sleep?” Inuyasha concluded after she let some time pass so he could absorb this. 

“No,” Izayoi held his little hand and brought it to her lips tenderly, “it means I won’t be with you in the same way as before. You can still see me in your dreams and memories but I won’t be able to hold you or talk to you like I used to.” 

Inuyasha gazed at her. Then unexpectedly, she saw his other hand reach over and clumsily pat her cheeks. 

“Don’t cry, Mama,” he said as he wiped away her tears running down her cheeks. He did not like seeing her look so sad. Everyone around him was crying these days and although he couldn’t say why, intuitively, he understood something terrible had happened. 

“I’ll save you.” He defiantly added, prompting Izayoi to kiss him. 

“My brave prince.” She smiled through her tears, remembering all the sun-drenched afternoons where she and Inuyasha used to play all sorts of games in the palace gardens. His favorites had shifted from tag to knight-rescuing-princess then hide-and-seek which he had mastered. There had been a few heartstopping occasions when she hadn’t been able to find him right away until he made his appearance known at will. As much fun as they had been, the games had served another purpose in teaching him evasion and elusion. Critical skills that a defenseless child would need to survive, if it ever came down to that. 

The memory prompted her on a different track of thought. 

“Inuyasha, do you remember playing hide-and-seek?” 

He nodded again and encouraged, she continued to speak and prayed he would never forget this. 

“If you ever feel scared or think someone bad is near you, I want you to hide like you used to. Especially on the new moon nights when your hair turns dark like mine. Can you promise me that?” 

“Yes, Mama.” 

“Promise me, Inuyasha.” Izayoi fervently whispered. “Promise me you will hide, just like we practiced, if you think you’re in danger.” 

“Promise.” Inuyasha repeated solemnly. 

As the afternoon darkened into evening, Izayoi’s remaining strength waned. Lying in bed, she watched as the maids cleared Inuyasha's dinner tray and had him dressed down for the night. When that was done, they kindly brushed out her hair for her and helped her change into her bedclothes. 

“Oh, leave them on for now, please.” Izayoi asked the maids, gesturing for the candles to not be snuffed out. “I like the light.” 

“Of course. We’ll come back a little later then to check on the braziers.” One of the maids nodded as they stepped out. “Good night, my lady.” 

When they left, Inuyasha snuggled next to her as she tucked the blankets around them both. The warmth of her body and smell of her skin deeply comforted him as he burrowed into her embrace then looked up at her with adoring eyes. 

For a long while, they lay in the still silence before slumber as Izayoi lovingly gazed down at her only child and stroked his silvery hair in comforting slants. 

“Tomorrow, don’t forget your red robe and keep yourself warm.” Her voice was as slow and sweet as honey. “Listen to your elders and mind your lessons well. Your lady great-aunt told me she’s going to have a tutor come and teach you.”

Although she did not dare show it, she could not help but feel a grim sense of foreboding when it came to her aunt. A week before, they had held a tense discussion concerning Inuyasha’s welfare and she had extracted a tenuous promise from her aunt that her son could continue to live at the manor. Izayoi’s remaining wealth was transferred into a trust that would continue to pay out her aunt’s annuity and Inuyasha’s upkeep over time. Any remainder was to automatically go to her son when he came of age. 

“Give me your word you will treat him as your own. That he will want for nothing, in his care and education.” Izayoi remembered demanding as she lay in bed and behind the screens that separated her from her aunt. 

The aunt readily gave it, only after her niece had assured her that the money would continue to flow in her pocket. 

That conditional acceptance had not been lost on Izayoi which spurned her to preemptively send for Tōtōsai and Myōga, asking them to regularly check on Inuyasha. If they suspected anything amiss, she wrote in her messages to them, they were to take him away from the manor. 

Saddened, she tried to return her thoughts to the present and enjoy her remaining time with her child. 

“Mama loves you very much, Inuyasha.” She watched his eyes droop, fondly recalling a time when he was a newborn and he used to do just this when he was about to fall asleep. “If you miss me, I’ll only be a dream away.” 

"I love you." He drowsily hugged her as he fell asleep. 

She brushed away his bangs and saw him smile ever so peacefully at the touch of her hand. She could have lain there forever with him, affixed in this moment with her baby safely at her side. 

It wasn’t until twilight that sleep won Izayoi over at last and when she succumbed to the deep rest, she dreamed for the first time in a long while. 

Out of the darkness, a pale golden sun greeted her line of sight then brightened to reveal a blue sky streaked by rose and violet clouds. A light green sea stretched as far as her eyes could see to the distant horizon, its waves gently rolling back and forth on a pristine shore. Sea foam lightly sprayed the bottoms of rocky cliffs that rose from the depths in lacy splashes of white as the water broke against them. 

A child’s laughter rang out, catching her immediate attention. The ocean breeze blew at the hems of her gauzy robes as she turned to look for Inuyasha. She thought she spotted him running ahead of her, his little feet leaving a trail of footprints in the sand and the sun burning white against his silvery hair. 

“Inuyasha!” She called for him as she lifted her skirts and chased after him barefoot, feeling lighter and freer than she had in years. Overhead she could hear the call of seagulls as they flew out into the open sea and expanded their wings along the wind. 

“Inuyasha, wait for me!” 

He was running so fast, she didn’t know if she could keep up. Alarmed, she saw him dart past a few rocks and disappear behind them. She followed, anxious not to lose him, when she caught sight of a figure in the distance who was walking—no—running towards her. 

Her hand leapt up to her chest as if it could seize the heart within. 

Her breaths came up short as her thoughts spun out of control to a dizzying height of elation. Oh, in the name of heaven, was any of this real? 

Was this some tortuous mirage conjured by hell or maybe a sweet delusion her mind had fashioned from wistful thoughts? 

Her knees shook and in another moment, she thought they would fold under the shock. 

She raced across the beach, the sand giving little resistance underneath her feet as she ran ahead and when she was close enough to see what she had suspected, to confirm what she had known all along, she called out a name. 

At his approach, his arms opened and in one blissful moment, she threw herself into them and was swept up into the Inu no Taisho’s loving embrace. 

Gasping in joy and crying with exultation, she buried her head into his shoulder. He lifted her up, almost to the tiptoes of her feet, crushing her to him as he bent his head low to kiss her. The touch of his hand, the sound of his breathing...this was real. 

It was all real. 

  
  


“ _I missed you so much._ ” Izayoi confessed upon his lips as he kissed every part of her within his immediate grasp. 

Their heads touched as they looked upon each other for the first time in years. He appeared exactly as she remembered him, perfect and golden as the sun. Its very light seemed to dance in his chromatic eyes and glisten off his silver hair. His arms were heavy and warm across her body, enfolding her with such security that nothing in the world could have parted them. 

The Inu no Taisho gazed back at her as he held her face between both of his hands as though it was the most precious thing on earth. 

Their lips met in passionate embrace and a flood of emotions, all the love for him that Izayoi had long buried sprang up again, overwhelming her. Trembling, she broke away from their kiss. 

“....where are Inuyasha and Sesshomaru?” She asked him. “Where are our sons? I thought I saw...” 

Izayoi looked about their surroundings, taking in every inch of the beach. She had been here before. She recognized it as the one from her home, where she used to take walks with her companions and had played with her brothers long ago. It was then that she realized that what she had seen earlier had not been her son at all but an illusion, a memory of the child she had left behind in death. 

The light in his countenance faded and when she saw a shadow encroach upon the planes of his handsome face, she feared the worst. 

“Are they not well?” She whispered. “Are they…” _Dead? Are both of them dead?_ She couldn’t even voice it aloud for fear of making it come true. 

“Our sons are alive.” The Inu no Taisho reassured her. “But it will be some time before we will see them again.” 

“Oh Tōga…” Her eyes burned with tears as it all came back to her. 

“I tried. I tried so hard.” She sobbed as she clung to him like a child, reliving all the years of terrible loneliness and heartbreak she had undergone since his death. 

“I know you did.” He whispered, pressing his lips on the top of her head. “I was with you at every moment. I heard you. I saw you….and you were so brave. I am so proud of you for everything you did for Inuyasha and my son.”

“Sesshomaru wouldn’t accept us and Inuyasha is...he’s so little.” Izayoi cried into his shoulder. “He’s only six...I didn’t want to leave him. I didn’t want to. Please tell me they’re going to be alright. Please...” 

_Our son..._ she ached to hold her baby boy again. How many more years would lapse in between until their next reunion? For his sake, she hoped it would not be for a long while but she could not help but feel distressed at the prospect of being sundered from her child like this. 

“Our sons have destinies greater than we could have possibly imagined. The world needs them. For that alone, we must endure.” He held her close. “Just as they do.” 

“I don’t want either one to suffer.” 

They clasped to each other as they worriedly contemplated over what the fates had in store for both boys. They could not have fathomed how their twin pathways would lead to a quest in which they would encounter innumerable dangers and take them on a journey surpassing all the known glories of the world. In rediscovering legendary swords and forsaken humanity. Forging unbreakable, lasting friendships along the way. Then finding two mortal girls fated to become the keys to their best strengths, if not their greatest happiness. 

“What happens now…?” Izayoi dazedly murmured as she raised her eyes to the Inu no Taisho. 

He looked ahead at the coast, to where the sea met the sky and the moon embraced the sun. Where another lifetime, that one mercy he had begged for, could be lived out. Beyond those limits lay the heavens and an infinite number of worlds that he knew Izayoi had never seen. Or here, on this earthly plane where they could return through rebirth. Either way, he knew they would be together. As they were always meant to be. 

“Now, we live through eternity.” He gazed down at her, thinking back to the fateful night of a thousand lanterns when he had made his choice. For a love that incited the anger of angels and condemnation of both hell and earth. A price he had paid for with his life and her suffering, through which he had been redeemed in heaven’s eyes. All the long years he had spent in the shadow of immortality had been lit away by this sun that rose again in his last millenia. For she was the second coming of his youthful dreams, which he had thought was all but lost. 

She looked up at him in wonder. “Together…?”

With touching sweetness, he bent down so their heads touched. A soft smile graced his lips as he looked upon the love of his life and murmured a last promise. 

“Together.” 

  
  
  


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_Two Hundred Years Later_

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“Inuyasha...!” 

A happy, sweet voice rang out from the edge of the lake. Sunlight flickered through the silvery boughs of a magnolia tree that stood over a modest grave, shading it from the brightest rays. A bouquet of camellias lay at the stone base. Ears perking up to the sound, he turned and waved back at Kagome to indicate he would join her soon. 

He could see her in the distance, a figure of white and scarlet, contentedly sitting by the blue water as she jostled their baby on her knee. A blanket and remnants of a picnic had been spread out on the grassy hill. He heard a delighted squeal as Kagome lifted their daughter into her arms and started to twirl her around in a slow, gentle circle. 

“Why, Master Inuyasha!” Myōga was jumping up and down on his shoulder, practically in tears. “What a devoted son you are, to introduce your baby to your lady mother.” 

“It was Kagome’s idea.” He gruffly acknowledged but he did not sound as though he regretted it. 

“Ah, yes, yes. If only the princess could have met her granddaughter, she often spoke of wanting a little girl. Not that she didn’t look forward to having a son!” He suddenly paled at the look on Inuyasha’s face. “She was _very happy_ when she found out you were a boy, so was your magnificent father. They were delighted, absolutely delighted.” 

“Right.” 

“Your filial piety is exemplary.” Myōga was laying on the compliments thick today. 

“Inuyasha?” 

Smiling, Kagome approached her husband with Moroha nestling on her shoulder. “Didn’t you want to come closer to the lake?” 

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” he said but his eyes were still on Izayoi’s headstone. 

“Would you mind if I took a peek at the young miss again?” Myōga piped up, pink with excitement. He sighed in gratification when Kagome obliged and turned the infant in her arms so he could see the lively baby girl whose hair was dark as her mother’s and eyes were as bright as the day. 

“I was thinking,” Kagome curiously asked the flea demon, “since Moroha looks so much like Inuyasha, she must resemble his mother too, right? You mentioned he takes after her.” 

“Ah, yes, the princess…” Myōga slipped into a rapturous coma as his memory floated back to long ago when he was the chief retainer at the palace in the west. “She was paradise itself. Seeing her walk in the gardens with his lordship was like watching a scene from heaven. They were simply devoted to one another. I remember when they used to spend hours together in their pavilion or their library.”

“ _Ehhh_ …how romantic!” Kagome dreamily remarked whereas Inuyasha turned away, not knowing whether to feel repulsed or embarrassed. “They sound like they got along really well!” 

“Of course they did! The Inu no Taisho was the handsomest and most cultured _daiyōkai_ of his day.” Myōga waxed in nostalgia and practically glowed from reminiscence alone. “No one could possibly compete with him on either score and his blood was _divine._ So it was only natural that he would end up with the most beautiful woman in the kingdom.” 

He suddenly sighed. 

“It’s a pity,” he lamented, “that their only son hasn’t the _slightest_ interest in fine arts or learning like they did. They were so erudite in the classics yet Master Inuyasha can’t even hold a calligraphy brush.” 

“ _I know how to write.”_ Inuyasha snarled. 

“Now, now,” Kagome patted his arm, “I’m sure there are other nice qualities you got from your parents. Isn’t that right, Myōga?” 

“Hmm....” The flea demon paused in thought. 

Expectantly, they waited for a response but to Inuyasha’s increasing fury, Myōga seemed hard pressed for an answer. 

“ _Well?”_ He snapped. 

“Erm…” Myōga fidgeted. “Well, you obviously inherited his lordship’s strength.” He weakly offered. “Along with your lady mother’s looks.” 

“Keh! I knew that already!” Inuyasha crossed his arms. 

“What were they like?” Kagome was still fascinated by Myōga’s earlier description of Inuyasha’s splendid parents. 

“They were _perfect._ ” Myōga’s eyes glistened with effusive emotion. “They were kind, gracious, noble, and sophisticated in every possible way. They did well in anything they did. My lord was a brilliant general with a head for strategy. None could match his skill in battle. Princess Izayoi was equally gifted in intelligence. I remember she was very interested in medicine and had a natural talent for it. Then again, she was talented in practically everything. Especially music. Surely, Master Inuyasha, you remember, don’t you?” 

He and Kagome inquiringly glanced at him. 

“I don’t.” Inuyasha answered, much to Myōga’s shock. 

“But you couldn’t have forgotten?!” Myōga was stunned. “When you lived at the palace, your lady mother used to play the koto for you all the time! And what about your lord father’s drawings? The princess used to show them to you everyday.”

“Inuyasha lived in a palace?” Kagome was bewildered and when she looked to Inuyasha for confirmation, she realized from his surly silence that Myōga was telling the truth. 

“Yes, the palace of the west,” Myōga impatiently explained to her. “It was built by the Inu no Taisho centuries ago when he became the guardian in the region and was his primary residence. After my master passed away, his princess was left in terrible circumstances. She was forced to abandon the palace not long after, which was the home that his lordship had left for her. Her own had been destroyed by that psychotic Takemaru so she had nowhere to go except to some distant relations of hers.”

  
At Myōga’s prompting, Inuyasha vaguely recalled the shadowy mansion surrounded by long, open corridors that gave way to elegant gardens encircled by an artificial pond. Sometimes there were grand parties attracting dozens of aristocrats who floated in and out of the grounds like colorful spectres. There had been a fishing pavilion, he remembered, where his mother liked to sit with him and watch for the carps. 

“She was very brave to raise a baby on her own like that, especially in those times.” Kagome sympathetically remarked. Feeling attuned to a mother’s sadness, she looked down at Moroha who was now sucking away at her fist. 

“Indeed.” Myōga’s mouth quivered. “She took what was left of his lordship’s fortune and managed quite well for a few years, using it for Master Inuyasha’s upkeep. When she was dying, she made her aunt swear to look after him and use the money for his sake.” He paused to dry his eyes on the sleeves of his shirt. “Her ashes were barely in the ground before that sorry woman took everything for herself and turned him out of her home.” 

“How terrible.” Kagome murmured. Even now, she still could not get over the brute way people treated each other in this period. She thought of her own family and how they would _never_ have countenanced abandoning a family member like that, much less a child. There was no chivalry in this era, no sense of moral duty in defending the weak and helpless. Especially a _hanyō_. 

Instinctively, she reached for Inuyasha’s hand and held it tight. To her relief, he did not step away. 

“That’s why Tōtōsai and I lost track of Master Inuyasha. We didn’t have the slightest idea where he went after that horrendous aunt set him loose. We were eventually able to find him although by then, he was quite grown up. He’d been living alone, fending for himself— _gyah_ —” 

Inuyasha pinched off the flea from his shoulder, deliberately squishing him between his thumb and forefinger then threw him off to the ground. 

_“Inuyasha!_ ” Kagome was bewildered by this sudden display of meanness. 

“There’s no point in talking about the past.” Inuyasha brusquely replied. “This happened so long ago.” 

“But…” Kagome began to protest but he stomped off before she could say anything else. 

“Huh...oh dear…” Myōga heavily sighed as he pulled himself upright using a blade of grass.

“I’m very sorry.” Kagome apologized on Inuyasha’s behalf. 

“No need, no need.” Myōga waved it off as he flitted to rest on Izayoi’s headstone and dusted off his clothes. “Master Inuyasha has always been touchy on the subject of his lady mother. It’s been two centuries since the princess passed away yet it seems for my master, she died only yesterday. It was very hard for him, you know.”

Sad and wistful, he turned to the grave. 

“I’ll talk to him,” Kagome said understandingly as she shifted Moroha who was now squirming and kicking her feet out. 

It did not take her long to find Inuyasha. She caught him by the water’s edge, glaring at the lake as if he found its serene beauty somehow offensive. 

“Hey.” Kagome gently called for him with Moroha in her arms. 

Uncharacteristically silent, he did not look at her right away and when he was finally able to, his eyes cast about with nowhere to focus on or turn to. 

“Inuyasha, I know you’re upset.” 

“I’m not.” 

“Yes, you are.” Kagome correctly assessed. “About your parents.” 

“....” 

“Come on. Talk to me. You know we can tell each other anything—” 

“What else there to tell?” He faced her. “Seriously, what? I can’t tell you whether anything Myōga said was true or not because _I don’t know._ I don’t know anything about my mother or father like he does. I never got the chance.” 

His right hand clenched into a fist. 

“My father...might’ve given Tessaiga to me but he didn’t do jack shit to really protect my mother as he should have.” 

“That’s unfair.” Kagome was compelled to respond. “From what I know, he _died_ trying to save you and your mother. He gave up his life for both of you. How can you say that about him?” 

_“He left her on her own.”_ If it hadn’t been for Moroha’s presence, his voice would have risen to a shout. Instead, it came out as a vehement whisper. “You don’t understand. She might’ve been a princess but she was left with nothing when he died. No army, no guards, nothing she could have used to fend for herself. She needed help and he just...left her with no one to turn to.” 

“Inuyasha…” 

“As for my mother, I honestly don’t remember any of that stuff Myōga said about her and you know what, I’m glad. Because if I had those memories, it only would have reminded me of what I lost! What I _had_.” 

Frustrated, he turned away from Kagome’s sympathetic gaze. 

“Growing up without parents fucking sucked.” He kicked at the sand as bits and pieces of his past involuntarily circled his thoughts. The Inu no Taisho and his beautiful princess. Both lauded in memory yet only shadows to their son. Perfect in every way, Myōga had said, but by now, he knew the flea was prone to exaggeration when it came to his parents. All _he_ had to go by was a sword of conquest, a robe, and a tiny keepsake he had held onto by accident since he had been cast away from the provincial manor. 

“I don’t _ever_ want our daughter to go through that.” His eyes were on the lake, watching the sun dance off its surface. 

Not a moment later, he felt Kagome’s hand at his shoulder. Gently, easily, she bade him to turn to look at her and their baby again. 

“Had they been given the choice, I think your parents would have wanted to stay with you.” She said quietly. “But we both know they had to make sacrifices so you’d be safe. We’re no different from them.” 

He raised a brow at that. “You want Moroha to be an orphan?” 

“ _No,_ that’s not what I meant.” Kagome looked down at their infant daughter and tenderly stroked her cheek with the tip of her finger. “It’s just...well, I know you and I would do anything to protect her.” 

“Of course we would.” 

“Right,” she affirmed, “even if it meant…” 

_Giving her up. Hiding her away. Risking, no, laying down our lives for her._

She couldn’t even say it. Her gaze softened as she watched Moroha play with her hands and saw a hint of a babyish smile curve her little cheek. The Inu no Taisho barely had a night with his own son and Izayoi lingered on for a few short years. How much time, she wondered, would the gods allow her and Inuyasha with _their_ little girl?

“You keep telling me you don’t know your parents but I think you understand what was most important to them.” Kagome commented. 

“You wouldn’t be saying that if you knew how they met.” 

“Actually, I do,” she said much to his surprise. “I asked Myōga and he told me a little bit about it. I know your father—”

“—kidnapped my mother.” 

“— _met her by chance_ — _”_ Kagome overrode. 

“Then locked her up in his palace until she gave him what she wanted—” 

“—but regretted it and tried to make up for his mistake!” 

“Yeah, by forcing her to have me.”

“You honestly don’t believe that, do you?” Kagome reproached. “It’s so obvious they loved each other and you, especially.” 

Inuyasha said nothing. An uncomfortable silence fell between them and would have gone on for longer had it not been for Moroha who began to fuss. Almost immediately, he reached over and took the baby from Kagome, cradling their daughter in his arms as he let her relax and rest comfortably on his shoulder. 

Kagome’s eyes sparkled in delight as she saw their baby quiet down and contentedly watch the world around her in the safety of her father’s hold. 

“Inuyasha, it doesn’t matter what kind of story they had or how they wound up together. They _loved_ you.” She said after some time had passed. “The rest is just detail.” 

He held Moroha to him, taking in all of his surroundings as he breathed in his daughter’s scent. Long, long ago, perhaps there had been a time when he had been held just like this in Izayoi’s arms. He had no memory of his father’s care but his mother’s love? The truth was he had felt it once before and when she died, his world had fallen apart. It was ages before he had been able to carve out a place for himself and felt like he belonged somewhere. To someone. 

He looked at Kagome. 

“Detail, huh?” He thought of Izayoi and tried to remember her as she was. Not as the most beautiful woman in the kingdom but the one who read stories to him on moonless nights, kissed him awake, and played with him in sunlit gardens as he basked in her radiant laughter. 

Smiling at him, Kagome reached over to clasp his free hand in hers. 

“Come with me.” She beckoned. 

Pulling Inuyasha in the direction of the shore, he followed her happily, willingly. The scent of water grew stronger, the faint birdsong became louder and as the sunlight hit them, it seemed to him the warmth of spring enveloped them all in its lasting embrace. 

  
  
  
  


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_Spring 2021_

_Somewhere in Kyoto_

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“Wow, I can’t believe this place exists!” 

“ _It’s so pretty!”_

“Oh my god, this is gorge! It's the _perfect_ background for a selfie! Here, take my phone!”

“Me too! Me too!” 

A group of girls, all dressed for an early spring hike and carrying picnic baskets, dazedly stepped into a lush grove of paulownia and cherry blossom trees. All around them were soft violet and rosy blooms arched high above them from the dark boughs. The grass beneath their feet was so thick with blossoms that it felt like stepping onto a plush carpet. They breathed in the air, delighted by the scent and this pocket of undiscovered natural beauty. The mere sight of it alone was enough to dispel their initial apprehension of taking a walk through a dense woodland to get to their destination. 

“Come on, come on! Let’s get a group photo!” 

Excitedly, they slipped out their smartphones from their jacket pockets and started a happily chaotic, if not complicated, negotiation on who was to take the shot. Unable to decide, one of the party realized that they could simply wedge the phones on top of some mossy rocks and use a self-timer. 

“Okay! Smile!” 

They crouched down, trying to flaunt their best sides as they looked pretty for the camera and when the last pictures were done, they broke apart laughing. 

“Let’s take a couple more!” A few of them ran a little further into the trees, gazing up the flowered skies in wonder while the rest of their party trailed behind them. 

“Hey babe, you coming?” One of the girls stopped and jerked her head to the last of their group, a pretty brunette who lingered in the grove. 

“Yeah, I’ll be there in just a minute.” The girl smiled at her friend. “You go on with them, I’ll catch up.” 

“Alright, just don’t take too long! We’re going to go find a spot for lunch!” 

The girl watched her friends skip ahead then turned her to take in her surroundings once more. 

_Finally. I’m here._

She took in a deep breath and raised her eyes to the flowered scenery. For one treasured moment, she felt something lighten in her chest. Her boots skimmed the dewy grass as she ventured further into the copses, not knowing yet knowing where exactly she was going. For years, she had dreamed about this place and had no idea if it was even real but the image had haunted her until she finally decided to do something although admittedly it had taken a long time and a lot of work to get to this point. 

A girls trip to Japan, organized by one of her friends, had presented itself as a unique opportunity. Just as they were leaving the capital, she had been able to persuade them to go on an off-beaten path. She couldn’t tell them exactly where she was trying to go but knew that once they saw it, whatever doubts they had would be erased. They were deeply skeptical at first, even moreso when they realized she was guiding them into an unmapped wilderness. All she had to rely on was a deep intuition that drew her to it like a compass fixed to its north. 

She continued to walk, passing one blooming tree after the other, feeling happy to be here at last. 

After some time, she found a small clearing where the boughs of the paulownia and cherry were intertwined like the naves of a cathedral. Casually, she set down her basket and after experimentally tapping the carpeted ground of flowers for moisture, she sat down then promptly laid on her back so she could tilt her face towards the sky. 

It was a truly beautiful cerulean blue with big, white puffy clouds. There was not a hint of the forecasted rain that her phone’s weather app had predicted earlier. Even the breeze felt balmy like it was summertime. In the distance, she could hear the echoes of her friends’ laughter and their voices cheerfully calling to each other like birdsong. 

She laid there, grounded and content, in perfect equanimity.

If it had been possible, she could have stayed there until the heavens fell down upon her. So secure and comforted she felt in the certainty that she somehow had the protection of the highest powers, she thought nothing in the universe could harm her as long as she was in this place. 

Smiling, she turned to the side to admire the blooms around her when she spotted a bit of a glimmer amidst the purple and pink. She reached over and sifted out what looked like a fragment of yellowed marble no bigger than the palm of her hand. It had cracked right in the middle and moss had grown in between the space, suggesting it was rather old but she had no idea where it came from. Common sense told her it was nothing but a rock, yet…

She turned it over in her hand wonderingly. 

Where had it come from? Was it part of something? A statue, maybe? A building? Perhaps a castle or a palace. 

A palace. 

The girl’s hand flew to her chest as she felt an unexpected but dull stab of pain. Unnerved, the stone slipped from her grasp as she tried to sit up when a sudden wave of sadness crashed over her. 

All at once, her lungs seemed to tighten in response. 

“What the hell…?” The girl was stunned by the severe range of emotions coursing through her and became even more startled when she realized there were tears running down her cheeks. 

With difficulty, she managed to rise and started wiping her face with the back of her hand. Sniffing hard, she reached into her pockets for a tissue packet when she heard someone clearing their throat and saw a hand offer up a brown paper napkin. 

The girl looked up to see a frighteningly handsome man standing over her, his fair hair haloed by the morning sunlight and the countenance of his face shadowed in uncertain awkwardness. 

“I’m good, thanks,” she declined, feeling embarrassed that a total stranger had come upon her at the worst possible moment when her eyes were bloodshot from tears and her nose was dripping like crazy. 

Quickly, she stood up, scattering withered blossoms all around her as she did so. 

“I’m sorry.” The man said and sounded like he actually meant it. As if _he_ was the one responsible for her crying. 

“It’s okay, I’ve got tissues.” She withdrew a pack and tore one out to dab at her nose as she backed away from him. “Um, I should probably be getting back. My friends are waiting for me. Excuse me.” 

Picking up her basket, she turned to make what she hoped would be a quick and graceful exit. 

Instead, as her head swept away from him, it smacked hard against a low branch. She heard him step towards her in alarm but she stopped him with a raised hand as the other rubbed at her temple. 

“I’m fine,” she insisted as she winced in pain. “I’m fine.” 

“You don’t look fine.” 

_Thanks, Captain Obvious._ The girl sucked in the inside of her cheek in annoyance and resolved to leave. 

“Wait.” 

She didn’t want to look back but then what the stranger said next stopped her in her tracks. 

“Can I ask how you found this _exact_ spot?” 

Slowly, she turned around. He was looking at her with a quiet, knowing expression as if he knew the answer already even though she hadn’t said a word. 

“Not even the locals come here.” The man continued. “They know the grove is around but they can never seem to find it.” 

“I came with my friends.” The girl replied, feeling nervous. She was beginning to hate how she felt like some shy, plain schoolgirl in front of this grand gentleman. Why was this person even _talking_ to her? How did he even know where she was in the first place? 

“So did I. But I was the one who brought them here. None of them even knew about it until I showed them. Was it the same for you?” 

_How…?_

She stared after him in disbelief. 

He stepped closer and it seemed to her that he was regarding her with unquestioning familiarity. “...did you see this in your dreams too?” 

The basket dropped to the ground in a dull thud as the handle slipped from the girl’s grasp. 

He knew. 

He knew, somehow, what had driven her to this strange garden. Utter shock robbed her entirely of speech as she tried and failed to process what was happening. 

“Ever since I found this place, I come once a year.” The stranger confessed. There was a desperate, pleading look in his eyes as though he wanted her to understand him. That he had carried this secret just as she had in total silence for fear of being labelled insane. “I'm not sure why I do but I... _know._..I have to because I think someone is waiting for me here and I'm supposed to find them.” 

He gazed after her. 

“It can’t be.” The girl whispered. “This isn’t possible.”

The stranger approached further and all she could register was the depth of his light eyes in which she could see a familiar spirit that longed for an answer to this fateful mystery. A rare confluence of unexplained circumstances that had separately led them to a woodland hidden away from the known world. 

“You realize how crazy all this is?” She said to him. 

“I know.” The stranger empathically agreed. “But I’ve gotta figure this out. Otherwise I think I’m going to regret it for the rest of my life.” 

“I’m not sure I’m the one you’re looking for.” 

“How can you be if neither of us tries to find out whether that’s true or not?” 

The girl looked up at him, wary yet he thought he saw a glimmer of hope there in that expression of hers. One that lived for the goodwill of humanity and believed in the serendipity of fairy tales. 

“Is this really your first time here?” He asked. 

“Yeah.” An encouraging smile spread across the girl’s lips and the effect was startling as one would see a flower bloom in full underneath their watchful eye. “But I’d know it from anywhere. I’ve seen it so many times in my head. Sometimes I wasn’t sure if it was real or not.” 

“It’s real.” He said as though to reassure her and she saw that he was happy. Like he had been searching for a long time and unexpectedly came upon his discovery in the least likeliest place. He retrieved her fallen basket and as he handed it back, he asked, “What’s your name?” 

“I’m Isabel.” Her eyes brightened as she reached for him. 

“Tristan.” 

Their hands touched and, although they did not know it, the red threads of fate encircled their fates once more as it had a thousand years ago between a Heian princess and the demon-guardian of the west. 

The skies overhead deepened into afternoon and as their fingers entwined in each other’s to the clasp of lovers, the sun flung around them, scattering its radiance in the wake of a seemingly eternal spring. 

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_Which shouldn't exist_

_in this world,_

_the one who forgets_

_or the one_

_who is forgotten?_

_Which is better,_

_to love_

_one who has died_

_or not to see_

_each other when you're alive?_

_Which is worse,_

_the distant lover_

_you long for_

_or the one you see daily_

_without desire?_

_Which is the least unreliable_

_among fickle things —_

_the swift rapids,_

_a flowing river,_

_or this human world?_

**_Izumi Shikibu_ **

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_Finis_

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	13. Disclaimer and Acknowledgements

**Disclaimer on Material and Artworks**

* * *

_Artist Credit:[Mishelle Borja](https://www.etsy.com/shop/Mishellja)_

* * *

I owe an enormous amount of thanks to the artists [_Chandra Habein_](https://chandrahabein.tumblr.com) , _[Mishelle Borja](https://www.etsy.com/shop/Mishellja), and [Lysyanime ](https://lysyanime.tumblr.com/post/118619916295)_for their wonderful art. In particular, I am indebted to Chandra for her many inspirational pieces and whose original works are the stuff of dreams; she is truly a one-in-a-million artist whose talents go well beyond paper and ink. Readers, please take the time to look at these artists' pages and support them. They deserve all the kudos in the world. 

Regarding all other landscape artworks embedded in the chapters, these images were sourced from Pinterest. Unfortunately I wasn’t able to find the proper artist credentials or working external links for many of them. Readers, if any of you recognize the artist in any images, please don't hesitate to let me know so I can credit the right person. If you happen to be the artist yourself, please don’t hesitate to let me know and I can remove the images. 

Apart from minor references in the television show, even fewer in the manga, there is very little canonical material on this couple which poses significant challenges in constructing a narrative. The third movie was the closest thing we ever got to a backstory and seemed to leave more questions than answers that will never be explained (as of 2020). This absence of fact and the tantalizing hints that were left behind compelled me to give them not only the farewell that they deserved but an equally fitting lovestory, which I humbly submit to this fandom as a gift. 

I have tried to keep this reasonably faithful to the current, available source material and bridge out any canonical contradictions, some of which kept me on my toes. Anything else that wasn’t accounted for was filled in by imagination. 

Finally, Inuyasha is the property of Rumiko Takahashi. This fanwork makes no monetary profits from publication or distribution. 


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